Finally, a Sequel!
by kjcp
Summary: COMPLETE The summer after 7th year and everyone is trying to get their lives back in order after the fall of Voldemort, which seems almost impossible as some of the Death Eaters are still at large, and strange things are amiss at the Ministry of Magic ...
1. White Weddings and Doubt

**Finally, The Sequel!**

A/N: This takes place the summer after the trio's seventh year. While reading the first story couldn't hurt, I don't think anyone would be completely lost when reading this fic; it's a separate storyline.

Also, grumbles I realise that when I wrote Finally! I was under the impression that Hermione was younger than Ron. Now that Rowling has stated that Hermione is in fact older than both Harry and Ron, I'm going with that and so in this story she's older than she was in the first story. It doesn't actually change anything in my Finally-Potter-World, but I thought I'd just make a note of it anyway.

And, lastly, thanks to doraemon for helping me beta this fic. :)

XXXXXXX

**Chapter One: White Weddings and Doubt**

XXXXXXX

'Why do you _do_ that?' snapped Ginny. 'I am so bloody sick and tired of you—' The sixteen-year-old redhead stopped berating her older brother. Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she tried to manage a smile. 'Sorry,' she mumbled. 'I'm just tired of everyone acting like I'm a delicate flower or something… I'm not made of glass. I haven't broken yet, and I'm not going to break over this.'

'This' being Harry Potter.

Ron could kill his former best mate for leaving his sister behind the way he did. And he worried that her strong front was just that – a front. He remembered the summer after his second year at Hogwarts, the way Ginny would cry in her sleep and flinch at the slightest touch. He was sure she'd broken then, because she was easily frightened and the sound of a floorboard creaking could have her crying out with a start. But she was no longer that eleven-year-old girl. She was sixteen, had loved and lost, and fought against the Darkest wizard known. Still, she was just a girl who was mending a broken heart and Ron was waiting for her to break down. He hadn't seen her cry – not once.

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I don't mean to… I just want to make sure you're okay.'

'Leave her alone, Ron,' murmured Hermione from the sofa in the living room of The Burrow. 'She has bigger things to worry about than just Harry. She has three N.E.W.T. level Potions essays to write.' Hermione said all this with a twinkle in her eye even though she didn't look up from the book she was reading.

Ron narrowed his eyes and stuck out his tongue at his girlfriend; something he never would have done if she'd been facing him.

'That's mature,' said Hermione.

The tips of his ears turned red. How she knew exactly what he did all the bloody time, he would never figure out.

'Er, let's go for a fly, then,' suggested Ron, looking at his sister. He knew Hermione would demur. She always did.

'All right, then. I'll get the brooms from the shed and you can go find the Quaffle. I think I last saw it in the twins' old room.'

Ginny set off through the front door and across the garden. Ron glanced at Hermione before running up the stairs to the room formally occupied by two of the biggest practical jokers in the magical world. Fred and George had since moved into a flat together, but were going to add another roommate in a few weeks. Fred, against his twin's advice, had proposed to his long-time girlfriend Angelina. She had her own flat that she shared with roommates, but in an effort to save not only money but Fred's rocky relationship with George, she offered to just move into the flat with the twins. Ron felt a bit of sympathy for George. He and Fred had always had big plans of sharing a flat in London, living it up, getting drunk on Firewhisky. Unfortunately, Fred proposed to Angelina much, much sooner than anyone had anticipated and George felt as though he was being left behind.

Of course, George had never actually _said_ this, but Ron and Harry had had the same plans for themselves, and Ron knew how he felt when he realised Harry was going to muss up those plans royally.

Still, things weren't all bad. Hermione was living in Percy's old room, and after having her around every single day at Hogwarts and at the safe house, Ron couldn't imagine living away from her. Ever. Things were good between them. After the final battle Ron had had to take care of Hermione; she was in constant pain. There was little time to row about anything. Now, though, things were back to normal. They shouted and their temperatures rose in anger and annoyance, but they were so used to bickering that they were able to make up quickly, forgive and forget, as though it was an art form.

'RON!'

Ron started at the sound of his own name. He quickly found the old, beat-up Quaffle and raced down the stairs. He slowed down as he came through the lounge.

'Coming?' he asked Hermione.

'No… I'd rather finish my book.'

'Why don't you read outside?'

Hermione nodded. 'All right, I'll meet you out there.'

Ron smiled. He headed out the door and grabbed his Cleansweep from Ginny, soaring off towards the treetops like he had back in his Keeper-days at Hogwarts.

XXXXXXX

A week later Hermione watched from her bedroom window as Mrs Weasley shouted at her two eldest sons. Ron had informed her that Angelina insisted on a beautiful outdoors wedding and Fred wasn't keen on waiting until the next spring to get married ('Go figure,' Ron had added). Now, Mrs Weasley was taking it upon herself to make the back garden of The Burrow as perfect as possible. This was her dream: taking charge of one of the weddings of her sons.

Hermione rested her chin against her arm on the windowsill. She sat cross-legged in her desk chair, which she'd pulled up to watch in amusement as Mrs Weasley order Bill and Charlie around. A creak in the floorboards outside of her room let Hermione know someone was coming. She guessed by the warm hands that pushed her hair away from her shoulders, and the soft lips that kissed her neck, that Ron had come looking for her.

'Morning,' he murmured.

Hermione smiled. She turned around and took him in. He was still in pyjamas, feet bare against the hard floor, sunburnt arms sticking out from underneath an old Cannons t-shirt, hair rumpled and eyes glazed.

'What're you doing?' he asked.

'Watching your mum set up for Fred's wedding. I've never seen one before in the magical world. I've read about them, of course,' she added. 'It's rather fascinating, really. Much different than Muggle weddings.'

Ron arched an eyebrow. 'Really?' With a yawn he walked a few steps backwards until he met with her bed. He lay down on it, folding his hands together underneath the back of his head like a pillow. 'What's so different? Aren't marriages the same thing everywhere?'

'There are lots of differences,' said Hermione very matter-of-factly. 'First of all, the bride always wears a white dress and carries a bouquet of flowers. She has bridesmaids that stand up at the altar with her as well.'

'Angelina has bridesmaids,' Ron pointed out.

'Yes, and they help her do her hair and her make-up and all of that, but in Muggle weddings the bridesmaids stand up next to the bride. And the groomsmen stand up next to the groom. In magical weddings the groom only has _one_ groomsman, which in the Muggle world is called a best man.'

'Why would the bridesmaids stand up next to the bride? They're not getting married.'

Hermione shrugged. 'That's just how it's done.'

'Muggles are mental,' said Ron. 'What else is different?'

'The rings, for one. There are enchanted engagement rings here, with symbols carved into the bands and the gems have special powers or meaning, right? But during the ceremony, the wizard takes off the engagement ring and puts it on the bride's other hand before placing the real wedding ring on it. In the Muggle world, the engagement ring is worn with the wedding ring… they're kind of a set.'

'A set?' Ron looked up at the ceiling. 'My mum's ring has all these carvings on it in some sort of design, and my dad had it enchanted so that when he's thinking about her, the carvings glow blue.' Ron chuckled. 'It's almost always blue. It's also enchanted to turn black if he's ever unfaithful, but that's never happened.'

'I bet not! Your parents bicker, but they're in love, still. You can tell.'

'It's gross.'

Hermione laughed. 'It is not gross, silly! It's lovely! Don't you want to still be in love when you're their age?'

'I never had any doubt that I wouldn't be,' said Ron absentmindedly as he picked up a book from Hermione's bedside table. 'What's this?'

Hermione jumped up from her chair and snatched the book away from Ron. 'Nothing.'

Ron arched his eyebrow again.

'It's my diary,' said Hermione, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. She cleared her throat. 'Anyway,' she continued, putting her diary in the drawer of the table, 'I read that getting wedding rings enchanted is really, really expensive. It's not a craft they teach at school, so witches and wizards who know how to charm metals can make a lot of money off of them. What kind of charms did Fred put on Angelina's ring?'

'I don't know,' answered Ron, eyeing the drawer where Hermione's diary lay hidden. 'I think he said something about making it glow pink whenever he's talking about her and making it green when he's thinking about her – I don't know. A lot of romantic rubbish.'

Hermione smiled. 'You don't _really_ think it's rubbish and you know it. The books I got about wizard weddings left out the parts on divorces completely. How are those managed in the wizard world?'

'What's a divorce?'

'When two married people opt not to be married anymore, they can get a divorce which dissolves their marriage so that they are no longer bound together.'

Ron sat up. 'Wait… In the Muggle world you can just _not_ be married anymore? Without someone dying? Now, _that's_ mental. Why would you bloody get married if you didn't want to stay married?'

'I don't know. People change… Are you telling me _no one_ in the magical world ever wants a divorce?'

'I don't know, but it never happens. Once you're married you just stay married.' Ron leaned over and reached for Hermione, pulling her to him. 'Why, you think you're going to get sick of me one day or something?'

'Don't be silly,' replied Hermione. 'Of course not.'

Ron played with the paper ring on her finger. She remembered when he made it for her, binding it with an Unbreakable Charm, before going to fight Voldemort for the last time. The ring wasn't about a promise to one day get married. It was filled with many promises – to make her happy, to love her, to be with her, and, well of course, to marry her. Hermione knew that Ron was embarrassed by it, by the fact that he couldn't afford to buy her a real ring, but she refused to take it off.

'Don't you get tired of this?' he asked.

'No!' cried Hermione. 'Why would I?'

'Because it's not real.'

'It doesn't have to be encrusted with diamonds or rubies for it to be special to me. I love it because of what it means… Besides, once you go through Auror training you can get me something else – as long as you promise not to spend too much money.' Hermione ran her fingers through his hair as Ron pulled her closer still so that she was practically sitting on his lap.

'Did you decide yet?' Ron asked, nodding his head towards her desk and the stacks of letters and envelopes on top of it – all job offers and application acceptance letters.

'I've narrowed it down. I think I'll either work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures—'

'You and that bloody _spew_ nonsense.'

'Ron! How many times do I have to tell you—'

'I know, I know, it's S-

E-W.'

'_Anyway_, yes, I could work for the Office of House Elf Relocation or I could work in Werewolf Support Services. I've been offered a job in both offices. Or…'

'Or what?'

'Well, the other option is to become an Unspeakable.'

'In the Department of Mysteries?' Ron looked thoroughly surprised. 'Doing what?'

'I can't tell you, but the Department Head was very impressed with my Transfiguration and Charms N.E.W.T.s.'

Ron shook his head. 'I think I'd rather have you never tell me about your job than listen to you go on about house elves all bloody day.'

'Ron!' Hermione wrenched herself away from his strong arms and stood up, her hands on her hips. 'I don't know why you always have to belittle the house elves. You should at least just be quiet about it since you know it's important to me! I don't tell you that you bore the life out of me with your incessant prattle about the Cannons!'

'Oi! Hermione! That one hurt!' said Ron, clutching his chest.

'Oh!' cried Hermione, throwing up her hands. 'You're impossible!'

'He's a Weasley,' a voice said from the doorway.

Hermione turned around. 'Hi, George,' she said, greeting the older wizard who had the same bright ginger hair as Ron.

'Don't stop bickering on my account,' said George. 'I rather enjoy watching. We're all waiting to see which one of you pops a blood vessel first.'

Ron snorted. 'What d'you need, George?'

'Mum wants you to help her in the kitchen.'

'_Me_? Why can't Ginny do it?'

'Something about a Potions essay.'

Ron got up, grumbling, and left Hermione's room. George stood in the doorway, looking expectantly at Hermione.

'So…?' he said, his voice trailing off.

Hermione perked up. 'Did you get it?' she asked, excitedly.

'Yeah.' George reached into the pocket of his dragon-hide jacket. It looked just like leather, only the material shone green in the light. He held out the envelope to Hermione. 'You're going to have to tell him, y'know. I mean, I can handle Ron when he's hacked off, but I'm not the one living here, shagging him every other day, either.'

'We do _not_ shag every other day!' Hermione snatched the letter away from George. 'I appreciate it, y'know,' she said, her voice softer. 'I'll tell him… when he's ready to be told.'

'He'll never be ready.'

'Oh, I don't know.' Hermione looked at the letter in her hand. 'I don't like to keep secrets, I really don't, but… if he saw these letters it would just cause another row and, to be honest, I don't know if I can handle a row of that magnitude. I'm still…'

'Weak,' offered George.

Hermione looked up at the short, redheaded boy. 'Why are you helping me? You're not getting anything out of it.'

George chuckled. 'After all the shite Fred and I put you through when you were a prefect fifth year? Those poor bloody first-years all fainting in the common room? I thought your head was going to explode on the spot. Think of this as me owing you.'

'You always kind of liked me, didn't you? Even when I was being bossy?'

The tips of George's ears turned red. 'Well, no. Being two years older than Ron I suppose I just saw what he didn't.'

'Which was?'

'That you weren't just books and cleverness. You were cute.' George shrugged. 'But I wouldn't go as far as to say I fancied you! Once you got your teeth fixed you were quite nice to look at.'

Hermione turned a bit pink. 'Thanks.'

George shrugged again. 'Just don't tell Ron I said that. Brother or no brother, I think he'd pummel me.'

XXXXXXX

Fred and Angelina's wedding was just as Hermione had expected it. Everything was very formal – Angelina wore embroidered white dress robes that flowed just right, with her hair pulled back in a very elaborate twist that could have only been managed with magic. Even Fred, who usually tried to look stylishly chic, but ended up looking like a walking advertisement for _Modern Wizard_ clothing line, looked distinguished in his dark dress robes. Everyone looked happy, even Mrs Weasley who cried during most of the ceremony.

Once the Oath of Magical Marriage had been said, the rings had been exchanged, and Fred had kissed Angelina to seal the bond, all of the guests sent up white sparks from their wands and cheered. Hermione noticed, as the sparks flew from the end of her own wand, that most everything was white. The flowers, the tablecloths, the plates, the punch.

'White's the official colour of weddings,' Ron said, when Hermione commented about this.

'Really?'

He nodded. 'You didn't read that in one of your books?'

Hermione shook her head. 'No. There was no mention of colour. In Muggle weddings, the dress is always white, but everything else is chosen by the bride and groom.'

Ron shrugged.

They were still sitting in the back garden, on white chairs, even though everyone else had gone to the other side of the house where tables were set up and food was displayed. By looking at all of the guests, one would think it was a Gryffindor reunion. All of the players Fred and Angelina had ever played Quidditch with were in attendance, as well as the other Gryffindors of their year. Of course all of the Weasley brothers were there – Bill and Fleur, who'd been married for a good bit of time now, Charlie and his wife, Percy and Penelope ('When those two will ever get married is beyond me,' Mrs Weasley had muttered earlier. 'Living the life of a scarlet woman, she is. And Percy just allowing it to happen! I expected this behaviour from the twins… but Percy was a prefect!'), and, of course, George.

'Aren't you hungry?' asked Hermione. 'I heard your stomach growl during the ceremony.' She gave a bit of a giggle.

'Not really. I don't have much of an appetite.'

'Ron? What's wrong?'

'Nothing.'

'I know you too well,' said Hermione. 'Something's wrong and I want to know what it is.' When Ron didn't reply or even look at her, Hermione continued her pleading, 'Please?'

Ron sighed. 'I got an owl today.'

Hermione's heart sped up. 'An owl? From who?' She couldn't remember seeing any owls coming to The Burrow that day. The owl must have come sometime after breakfast, as Ron had been in a fairly good mood before that, despite their almost-row in her room.

'The Ministry. They sent me back the results from my tests.'

Ah, yes, Hermione remembered. A few weeks before, Ron had gone to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to take several character and aptitude tests. He'd been accepted into the general program, but his full acceptance depended on those tests. Ron had been reluctant to talk about them. Apparently, Hermione found out through Tonks, one of the requirements is to talk to a psychoanalyst, and Ron was completely uncomfortable talking to strangers about the things – however normal they were – that went on in his head.

'Well?'

Ron looked at Hermione with wide eyes. He smiled at her and she felt her heart speed up even more with anticipation. With a shrug he said, 'I didn't get in.'

Hermione completely deflated. 'What? Why the hell not?'

Ron rubbed his face with his hands before dropping them into his lap and groaning. 'That bloody psycho-nologist—'

'Psychoanalyst,' supplied Hermione.

'Whatever. He told them I was an unregistered Animagus… And some other stuff about how I'm likely to crack.'

'Likely to crack?' Hermione found that absurd. 'How are you likely to crack? You're perfectly stable!'

'It's not that,' explained Ron. 'It's that they're afraid I would bottle stuff up inside and since being an Auror is the most stressful job at the Ministry…' He trailed off and took in a deep breath. 'I have no idea what I'm supposed to do.'

He looked as though he could start crying at any moment. Hermione reached out and held his hands in hers.

'You know that blasted mirror at Hogwarts? The one that shows you what you desire most?'

'Yes. And I told you—'

'You told me I wanted to be Head Boy and Quidditch Captain because I needed a way to be better than the rest of my brothers. They're all brilliant in their own way and I thought, wow, I could be an Auror and _damn_ wouldn't that be something? Now what am I supposed to do? I could always work in the joke shop.'

Hermione was sure Ron's world was crashing down all around him. In the past few months everything he'd ever had his heart set on completely fell apart. She knew it was a plan of his and Harry's to go into the training program and move into a flat near the Ministry in London and do their training together. None of that was possible now. Harry hadn't gone back to King's Cross with them at the end of the year – he went to live in Ireland with Remus and Tonks. But there was still a slight glimmer of hope that Ron could go into the Auror program. Now, that glimmer had been extinguished as well.

'I can always reapply next year,' said Ron.

'So do that!' said Hermione encouragingly. 'Register yourself as an Animagus and—'

'I don't think I could handle another rejection. It just doesn't make _any_ sense. I thought for sure I would be able to get into the program. I helped defeat Voldemort for Merlin's sake. I mean… the _Daily Prophet_ is _still_ hounding us for interviews and quotes. People talk about us, y'know. I swear, when I took Ginny to Flourish and Blotts to pick up her books for next term, people pointed to us, whispering about what we'd done. I felt like Harry – what, with everyone recognising us and all? And the bloody Ministry doesn't think I'm good enough to be an Auror. I got an O in Defence for fuck's sake.'

Hermione tried not to grimace at Ron's swearing. 'I think you're brilliant at Defence. I suppose, though, there is protocol. They can't let someone into a Law Enforcement job if they've knowingly broken the law. I know there were extenuating circumstances, but you know how the Ministry is.'

'A bunch of poncey arseholes?'

'Something like that.' Hermione sighed. She brushed the fringe away from Ron's forehead, glad that it was back to being long again. He'd had to cut it all off for a potion she made in order to kill Voldemort's soul. What he hadn't known was that Hermione secretly brewed him a Hair Restoration Draught that had his hair back to its original length in only a few days. Unfortunately, the Draught didn't work for men who were already bald, like Mr Weasley, as Ron had asked about that. It was what St Mungo's used when someone came in after losing all their hair in a spell or potion gone wrong.

'Look,' said Hermione, 'I know this is a huge disappointment. Actually, I cannot imagine what it feels like, but _I _don't think any less of you. In fact, it burns me that the Ministry would reject you. I cannot _believe_ them. It's completely unfair!'

'You're not helping to make me feel any better, y'know.'

Hermione reddened. 'I still love you. I still think you're amazing.'

'Not amazing enough, apparently. Bill's got his good looks and a good bit of money from work. Plus, he was Head Boy _and_ he married a goddamned Veela. Percy's just brilliant. I mean, I guess I was Head Boy and all, but the other blokes in our year had nothing between their ears. There's no way I could compete with Percy in intelligence. Charlie and the twins were all fantastic Quidditch players, and they have their careers which everyone always asks about. "How are the dragons?" "What are you inventing next?" No one is going to ask me a bloody thing if I have to go and write reports on cauldron thickness.'

'Oh, shut it!' cried Hermione. Had she been standing, she would have stomped her foot. '_You_ were brilliant at Quidditch once you calmed down and stopped listening to whatever came out of the Slytherins' mouths. You were a prefect and Head Boy because you're smart, not because everyone else wasn't. And even if you _did_ write reports on cauldron thickness, I'd still ask you about your day at work. I don't know why you continue to think you're rubbish. Honestly, Ron, it gets right frustrating that you don't see what everyone else does.'

Ron sighed. 'Fine.'

'Things have a way of working themselves out, don't they?'

'I suppose.'

'So, let's not worry too much about it, all right?' Hermione was amazed at her lying abilities. In truth, her brain was running through all of the remaining possibilities Ron had for a job. He needed something that wouldn't bore him or make him feel ashamed of what he was doing. He needed something that would challenge him and make him happy. He needed—

'Don't tell anyone,' said Ron. 'I don't really want them to know.'

Hermione nodded. 'Of course. Did you want to join the party now?'

Ron shrugged.

'Would you rather go back to your room for a bit? We haven't found the privacy to be properly alone since that last night at Hogwarts. Your mum's always home and she has a nose for that kind of stuff. Always sniffing about, but she's completely immersed in your brother. I'm sure no one would miss us for a little bit…'

Ron nodded. 'Absolutely.'

XXXXXXX

Ron didn't think he was ever going to be able to escape The Burrow. Not that it was a prison, but this was his childhood home; he didn't feel very much like a child anymore. Hermione had plans to get her own flat in London after she began work at the Ministry, which would be bloody brilliant, as there were too many people constantly Apparating in and out of The Burrow, never allowing for any semblance of privacy. Who would've known that in the middle of a big celebration would be the only time Ron had been alone – and really alone – with his girlfriend in nearly a month? And she _lived_ in the same house as him!

The sex felt amazing. Ron never wanted to stop being with Hermione. Afterwards, though, they'd dressed quickly; with the entire Weasley clan back home, someone was bound to come looking for them at some point, and Ron didn't want them to find him starkers with his girlfriend. More like, he didn't want them to find his _girlfriend_ starkers!

They hadn't gone to the party, though. Hermione used her wand to make up Ron's bed and they were now lying on top of the orange duvet, Hermione breathing in and out slowly and softly as Ron played with her hair.

'Merlin, 'Mione,' breathed Ron, 'I miss you.'

'You see me everyday,' she replied with a giggle. 'I'm surprised you're not sick of me yet.'

'No. We need each other too much for me to start missing you.'

Ron was, of course, referring to the memories that plagued them all the time, especially Hermione. He'd still wake up in the night, somehow knowing she was in trouble, and go to her room. While she stopped waking up in the middle of nightmares screaming, she still cried silently in her sleep, tears soaking through her pillowcase and causing her nose to begin to run. Ron would kneel by her bed, caress her cheek or her hair until she calmed down. Sometimes she woke up. Oftentimes she didn't. Ron knew, though, she was always aware when he went to her in the middle of the night; the next morning at breakfast she would always give him a hug that lingered just a bit longer.

Hermione didn't just need him, though. Ron needed her as well. Perhaps the Ministry was right. Perhaps he _would_ crack under the pressure. Since Harry just walked out and left, Ron refused to discuss him. Things that usually didn't bother him now sent him over the edge, and it took Hermione forcing him to leave the house and walk it off with her, in a companionable silence, to make him cool off.

The psycho-thingy that was in one of the Auror interviews had more or less used Legilimency on him, his observations written down with an enchanted quill and parchment. Afterwards, the psycho-bility-man wanted to 'discuss' what he'd seen. Ron was fighting now to keep himself under control and not punch a hole in the wall; how could he have been so stupid as to think he could be an Auror? He wanted to say this to Hermione, but she refused to listen to him berate himself. In a way he was glad she thought so highly of him, but in a way he still doubted what she said was true. After all, what good was he if he couldn't even get into the training program? Let alone pass and become a full Auror?

'Why did I ever think living at The Burrow would be a good idea?'

'What d'you mean?' asked Hermione, turning her head so she could look up at Ron.

'Just so many bloody people here. Mum and Dad and Ginny, of course, but the twins are always Apparating in for no good reason, and Percy… Then now that Bill's back to working a desk job again he's always around… I feel like everyone's watching us, waiting for us to sneak away.'

'Your mum does have a good nose for sniffing that sort of behaviour out.'

Ron rolled his eyes, remembering the time when he and Hermione had finally been able to slip away when his mother came banging on the door. Luckily they were only kissing and nothing too untoward was happening.

'Once I decide on exactly what job I'm going to take, I'm going to find a flat in London closer to the Ministry. I don't like Apparating; I'd rather walk there instead.'

'Then I can come over and spend the night whenever I want!'

Hermione bit her lip. 'Well…'

'Well what? You don't want me to?'

'Just not all the time… I don't know how I manage to look your mother in the eye knowing we've done the things we have. She'd probably start crying if she knew I had taken her son's virginity.'

'You make it sound like you took advantage of me.'

'Well, I _am_ an older woman.'

Ron howled with laughter. 'You're only five months older than I am!' Ron began to tickle her sides, making Hermione shriek with laughter.

'If you two are quite finished,' Mr Weasley said from the doorway, looking rather amused.

Ron looked up and frowned. He wasn't altogether happy to see his father, but at least they were clothed. 'You're just like George,' he murmured, remembering how George had interrupted them bickering earlier that day.

'You two should be down at the party. Fred is showing everyone some Muggle game he learned in London.'

Hermione nodded. 'All right.' She got up from the bed and turned to Ron. 'Aren't you coming?'

'He'll meet you down there,' said Mr Weasley.

Ron was confused. What did his father want? Hermione shrugged but made her way out the door and out of sight.

'What's wrong?' asked Ron, moving to sit on the edge of his bed.

Arthur Weasley pulled a crumpled looking letter out of his pocket and handed it to Ron. 'Don't leave your mail in the kitchen.'

Ron groaned. It was his Auror rejection. 'Did you?'

'I read it, yes, but only because I didn't know what it was. I didn't tell your mother,' he added as an afterthought.

'I'm sorry.'

'Sorry for what?'

Ron's brow furrowed just a bit. 'For not getting into the Auror program.'

'Don't be sorry for that. In fact, I wonder myself what's going on. The Ministry lately has been in disarray. Fudge has stepped down as Minister, of course, but the new guy is worse. There's been firings and missing personnel… and this new Minister doesn't even seem to notice or care. Personally, I plan to make some small enquiries about who _did_ make it into the program. I know of quite a few people who weren't accepted and Tonks, being an Auror herself, is outraged. You should hear her talk.' Mr Weasley chuckled. 'She's rants on about it so, waving her arms and knocking things over.'

Ron smiled slightly.

'Did you tell Hermione?'

Ron nodded.

'How'd she take it?'

'She was disappointed for me, I guess.' Ron shrugged. 'I was hoping to save the small amount of money trainees get and live here…'

'Save? You wouldn't want to move out like the others?'

'Er… No.' Ron flushed and leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees, and rubbing his hands over his face.

'This has to do with Hermione, doesn't it?'

Ron felt the tips of his ears turn hot.

'You're only eighteen.'

'I know that,' Ron grumbled.

'Fred was twenty, though. I was just nineteen,' said Mr Weasley, blushing himself. 'Of course we got married before I turned twenty as well. When you know, you know.'

'Er, yeah.'

'And you know don't you?'

'Bloody hell,' muttered Ron, refusing to look up at his father.

'Wouldn't it be great to have a Muggle-born in the family, though?' said Mr Weasley with a dreamy look in his eye. 'She probably knows everything about Muggles, doesn't she? And she wouldn't dare turn her father-in-law down for a lunchtime chat at work about plugs or those didgy-tail cameros.'

Ron snorted.

'ARTHUR!'

Mr Weasley cringed at the sound of Mrs Weasley's shouting voice. 'Oops. I was supposed to be getting more sandwiches – got sidetracked coming up here.' Mr Weasley turned. 'Oh, and I'd re-button that shirt before your mother comes up here. You know how she gets. COMING DEAR!'

Ron looked down at his shirt; some of the buttons were in the wrong buttonhole. Bloody hell.

XXXXXXX

Instead of going downstairs and into the garden, Ron slipped into Hermione's room. He looked around and smiled to himself. Everything was neat and perfect and spotless. He imagined this is what her Head Girl room at Hogwarts must have looked like. He knew it was wrong, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.

He'd seen her write in her diary before, once or twice. He didn't want to know all of her personal thoughts, but he was curious to know if she had been putting any thought into their future like he was. It wasn't something that completely preoccupied his mind, but he did think about asking her to marry him. He knew that it might seem rather soon. After all, Bill and Charlie were both almost thirty before they got married, and Percy was still technically unattached. His parents, though, were extremely young when they were married, and Harry's had been wed towards the end of the summer immediately following their seventh year.

Ron flinched and grimaced at the thought of Harry. He pushed the thoughts of the other boy completely out of his head.

_When you know, you know_.

And Ron knew.

He shuffled through the drawer. She was going to _kill_ him. Still, if he could flip through the most recent entries and find out whether or not it had been on her mind, then it would make it easier for him to accept the task at hand and begin saving money. The question had almost slipped out of his mouth a couple of times, and he was afraid she'd say no if his idiocy won out and he asked her before getting a ring or finding out whether or not it was something she wanted.

Well, of course he knew she wanted it. Didn't he? She wore that stupid paper ring. She _said_ she wanted to marry him. But he was such rubbish at almost everything, could she really be telling the truth? Ron's stomach churned, as it did every time he thought about whether or not Hermione was settling – for him.

'Huh?' Ron didn't find the diary in the drawer. Knowing Hermione she probably moved it or put some charm on it so he wouldn't be able to find it. Instead, he lifted out a stack of letters, all opened, and all addressed to Hermione in somewhat familiar handwriting. There were close to two dozen letters.

Ron didn't want to read the letters, but he opened up one just to see who Hermione was writing to. Upon seeing the signature, his blood began to boil and his ears turned red. He threw the letters back into the drawer.

What the hell was she doing writing to him still? Behind his back?

Ron knew from past experience, and past rows, that he should just let Hermione write her letters and shut up about it. But seeing those letters really was making him angry.

Going back downstairs, Ron made his way to the garden. He spotted Hermione right away, her partially bushy, partially curly, brown hair stood out in the crowd, and his eyes always seemed to be drawn to her anyway. She was talking to Ginny and Hagrid, recently released from St Mungo's almost completely cured but for a small twitch. Hermione saw him and smiled. She waved him over. Ron considered for a fleeting moment going over there, but he ignored her and walked over to one of his brothers instead.

He refused to look over his shoulder. He knew the look that would be on Hermione's face – hurt and anger, the two feelings he was having himself.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued…


	2. Oddities and Salaries

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Two: Oddities and Salaries**

XXXXXXX

Ginny sat in the corner of the garden, still in her formal robes, with her knees drawn up to her chest, her chin resting upon them. She hugged her arms around her legs tightly, unsure why she felt the way she did. Part of it, she knew, was because she was still depressed over everything that had happened at Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire a few months ago. Watching people die, ceilings crumble, and your boyfriend become irrevocably damaged could make anyone depressed. And while Ginny knew this, it didn't make her feel any better. She wanted to feel as happy and alive as she had back in the middle of her sixth year, before she was shipped off to that rotten safe house in Ireland.

_He said he'd write._

_Stop it!_ she screamed inside her head. _Stop thinking about him!_

_But he said he'd write!_

He did. Harry said he'd write to her. She said she would write back. Unfortunately, Hedwig had only made one trip to the Weasley household and _that_ had caused all kinds of ruckus. It had been a letter to Ron and Hermione, and Ginny had never seen her brother become so overly furious in her entire life. She'd never actually seen the letter, but by gauging Ron's reaction, Ginny figured it couldn't have been anything good.

Mainly, it was because of the wedding that had Ginny sitting in the garden feeling melancholy. Angelina was so beautiful, with perfect hair and make-up, and Fred looked as though he might actually cry when they were repeating the marriage oath for all the witnesses to hear. Being in love was such a precious thing, and it was obvious to everyone Fred and Angelina treasured it. Of course, Fred was never the romantic one, but one look at him today and anyone could see he was absolutely crazy over Angelina.

'CROOKSHANKS!'

Ginny jumped at the sound of Hermione's voice. Looking behind her shoulder, she saw the older girl standing at the back door, yelling for her cat. Most likely, the flat-faced beast was hunting for sleeping gnomes in the garden. Hermione's curly hair was pulled back into a messy bun and she was wearing blue pyjamas with blue slippers. Her dressing gown was open in the front, and Ginny knew this was a sign Hermione was becoming more comfortable being a part of the Weasley family.

In summers past, Hermione would have blushed furiously if she was caught in pyjamas instead of her normal day-clothes. Now, she would sit on the sofa, reading a book, in pyjamas and bare feet, as though it was the most normal thing in the world. Tonight, Ginny figured, the only reason her dressing gown was even worn at all was because the night air was a bit crisp whenever the wind began to blow.

'CROOKSHANKS!' Hermione put her hands on her hips and took a few steps into the garden. She stopped once she saw Ginny and smiled. 'What're you doing out here?'

'Thinking.'

'Ah. There's a lot to think about, isn't there?'

There _was_ a lot to think about, but Ginny didn't know whether or not Hermione knew what was on her mind.

'I've been doing nothing but thinking since the beginning of summer holiday. Where is that cat? CROOKSHANKS!'

'What's been on your mind?' asked Ginny, hoping the conversation would steer away from herself all together.

'Oh, you know… Aftermath of the battle… choosing a career… Harry…'

'You think about Harry?' Ginny asked before she could stop herself.

'All the time. He was my best friend, how could I not?'

Ginny shrugged.

'I bet you think about Harry as well.'

Ginny shrugged again.

'It's all right. He thinks about you, too.'

'He has a funny way of showing it. He never owls me or anything. I know for a fact Fred invited him to the wedding, but he didn't show up.'

'He's still working things out in his head. He'll owl you when he's ready.'

'How do you know? You don't know. You—' Ginny stopped. She narrowed her eyes at Hermione. 'Have _you_ been talking to him?'

Hermione blushed. 'No. I just know how Harry thinks. Despite what everyone else may think, he and I were very, very close. Closer than the two of you were in some regards.'

'What do you mean?'

'We were friends for longer – much longer. I know everything that happened between first and seventh year, when you two became a couple. I know all the details about the Dursleys and details about his relationship with Cho… I know him better emotionally than Ron does. I'm a girl so I'm more adept at figuring things out like that, I suppose.' Hermione shrugged. 'He began talking to you, I know, when you got together, but before that, I was the one he came to whenever he had a problem. I know how he thinks, and I know he liked you a lot and the way Harry's mind works is to push everything away and work on one small problem at a time. Once he's dealt with killing Voldemort, he still has to work on accepting the deaths of fellow Order members, Sirius, Dumbledore, and his parents; he never did fully deal with those. After that, _then_ he'll be ready to write you.'

Ginny was silent. How could Hermione be so sure?

As if reading her mind, Hermione said, 'I told Ron once he had the emotional range of a teaspoon, but really, it's Harry who has a small emotional range. That's why he brooded all of the time. He just doesn't know how to deal with a hundred different emotions all invading him at the same time. It'll take more time, I'm sure, but I wouldn't give up complete hope. He wants to be friends. I just hope that when he's ready, Ron will be willing to give him another chance.'

'Ron's really hurt,' said Ginny quietly. 'He'd never admit it, but he misses Harry.'

'I know.'

'He loved Harry just as much as he loves our brothers. He took Percy's betrayl of our family harder than the rest of us… save Mum.'

'I know,' said Hermione again.

Not wanting to talk about Harry any longer, Ginny asked, 'What career are you going to choose?'

'I don't know. I _really_ wanted to expand my S.P.E.W. idea, but the Department of Mysteries has offered me a job doing research.'

'Ah, and we all know how Hermione loves doing research.'

Hermione blushed. 'No, it's not that… It's… Well, I suppose I can't really talk about it, can I? Let's just say I would be using my brain… it would be like working on a giant puzzle, figuring out clues and such. I think it would be enjoyable. Like a big crossword where you can't figure out all of the blanks.'

Ginny nodded. 'Sure,' she said with a smile. Doing research and figuring out a giant puzzle was _not_ her idea of a good time. But whatever gave Hermione her jollies…

'When would you start?'

'At the Department of Mysteries?' Hermione looked up, as if in deep thought. 'Next week, actually,' she said after a moment. 'They want a formal interview and to give me my exact assignments on Friday. We'd also discuss pay… Then, on that Monday I would begin if all goes well.'

'Then you're going to move out, aren't you?'

Hermione smiled a sad smile. 'Well, yes. I can't live at The Burrow forever. Your parents are lovely, really, for taking me in, but there is no reason once I procure a job that I can't be on my own. I have savings in a Muggle bank that I can exchange at Gringotts and get my own vault. I'm going to be nineteen in a couple of months, it's time for me to be independent, I think.'

'Ron'll be sad.'

'Ron'll live,' said Hermione rather nastily.

'Ah, so you notice he was being a git at the party, too, then,' said Ginny, amused. 'What kind of row did you two have?'

'We _didn't_,' insisted Hermione. 'We were talking in the house and your dad asked for a word, and when they were finished talking, Ron began to ignore me.'

'Well, Dad certainly wouldn't say anything—'

Hermione waved a dismissive hand. 'I know it wasn't your father, but in the ten minutes they talked, Ron got angry with me. I wish he would tell me why. He locked the door to his room, you know, and wouldn't let me in. Odd, that.'

'Very,' agreed Ginny.

'Oh, there you are!' said Hermione as her cat lazily walked up to her. She scooped up the furry beast in her arms and scratched his head between his ears. 'Well, g'night, Ginny. Don't think too long out here.'

'I won't.' Ginny watched Hermione retreat back into the house before she herself went back to staring up at the moon, thinking.

XXXXXXX

The next week began slowly. Hermione tried everything she could to figure out what Ron's problem was, but to no avail. He was snappish and distant, as though she'd done something terrible. After a couple of days of his strange behaviour, Hermione looked through her drawers, but the stack of letters and her diary both appeared to be untouched. She supposed, though, that it didn't mean Ron hadn't seen them. Nothing in the diary would have made him angry, though, unless he flipped back through the entries in fourth year where she had various notes about Viktor Krum.

She concluded he must have seen the letters. He wasn't saying anything about them, though, and Hermione didn't want to bring them up in case he was hacked off at her over something entirely different.

By Wednesday, she'd had enough of it. At breakfast, Mrs Weasley scooped out scrambled eggs and placed them on Hermione's plate.

'Eat up,' she ordered. She placed the platter of eggs on the table in front of Ron; Hermione and Ginny hardly ever had seconds, while Ron had thirds and fourths. Wiping her hands on her apron, Mrs Weasley took it off and folded it up, placing it on the counter. 'I'm going into London today. Is there anything you lot need?'

'Why're you going to London?' asked Ron. He picked up his glass full of pumpkin juice and peered at his mother while he lifted it to his mouth.

'Order business.'

'Order? But Voldemort's gone – why's there an Order meeting?' asked Ginny.

'And why can't I come? I'm of age _and_ out of school.'

'It's just a small meeting,' snapped Mrs Weasley. 'There's nothing to be concerned about. It's mainly to gather our bearings and see what's going on with the trials of all the Death Eaters that were captured.'

'Well, they're going to Azkaban, aren't they?'

Mrs Weasley wet her lips. 'Of course they're going to Azkaban! You can't send someone to prison without a trial first!'

'They sent Sirius there for _twelve years_ without a trial!' challenged Ron.

Mrs Weasley turned a bright red and harrumphed before Disapparating with a loud crack.

'That was strange,' mused Hermione.

Ron snorted.

'What? It _is_ strange. We could have gone; we're of age. Well, not Ginny.' Hermione gave Ginny a sympathetic look.

'You don't have to make her feel bad about it!'

'Feel bad about what?'

'Not being of age. Missing the meeting.'

'_We're_ missing the meeting,' said Hermione.

'I _know_!'

Hermione opened her mouth, only to close it again. She was so confused. What were they bickering about now? Certainly not Ginny being under seventeen. That would be thoroughly ridiculous.

'What? You obviously have something to say, so say it.'

Hermione shook her head.

'Oh, so when I want you to shut up you keep right on talking, but now that I want to hear what you have to say, you won't open your mouth?'

Tears welled up behind Hermione's eyes; she blinked them back. 'What is your problem?'

'Nothing.' Ron leaned over his plate and continued to shovel food into his mouth.

'It's not nothing. You've been a prat for days.'

'Just leave me alone for a while, all right?'

Hermione sniffed back her tears and ran from the kitchen.

XXXXXXX

For the rest of Wednesday and Thursday, Hermione could hear Ron pacing back and forth in front of her room, clearing trying to decide whether or not to knock. She would have opened the door and demanded him to stop making the floorboards creak, but she didn't want to start another row, and she was afraid if she saw him she'd have to resist the urge to punch him in the face.

Friday morning Hermione woke up early and dressed in crisp navy blue robes. Underneath, she wore dark slacks and a cream coloured jumper. She wanted to make a good impression for her interview. Ginny helped her smooth out her hair and apply a very subtle shade of lipstick to accompany the light, natural shades of eyeliner.

_I'll have to remember this_. She liked how she looked.

Hermione would never forget how to get to the Department of Mysteries after fighting off Death Eaters there in fifth year. She Apparated to the Ministry and looked around the Atrium. Since she was not yet an Unspeakable, she was not allowed into that Department. However, she was to meet the Head of the Department of Mysteries in the Atrium and join him for lunch. At least, that was what the letter said.

'Miss Granger?'

Hermione whirled around and found herself looking at a dark haired man with almost gaunt-looking features. He was tall and thin and didn't wear any robes, but jeans and a t-shirt instead.

'I'm Alberic Mulciber, Head of the… well, you know.'

Hermione's eyes widened. She took a step away from the man. 'Mulciber?'

The wizard nodded.

'You were—'

'My brother was a Death Eater. I'm well aware of who _you_ are, Miss Granger, having fought off Voldemort several times, aiding in his final downfall. I hope you don't think that just because my brother was a Death Eater that I am to blame as well. We do look a bit alike in the face, I'm afraid, although I am a bit taller. You met him when you broke into the Department of Mysteries several years back, didn't you?'

Hermione nodded. 'He was – he used the Imperius Curse—'

'That was his specialty. Come now, we can't discuss things here. I have all my meetings at a small café in Muggle London. It shouldn't be a stretch for you, since you're Muggle-born, correct?'

Hermione nodded again. 'Yes, sir.'

'I hope you have Muggle clothes on underneath those robes? Yes? Good, take the robes off – you'll look suspicious to the Muggles otherwise.'

Hermione did just that, smoothing out her jumper as she did so.

'Good. Let's go.'

XXXXXXX

Hermione sat down in a small booth. She ordered water and a garden salad with half a turkey sandwich. Alberic Mulciber ordered a large meal for himself, which made Hermione wonder how he managed to look so gaunt.

'I have all my meetings here,' he told her after he finished ordering, 'because the Department of Mysteries prides itself on keeping everything top secret. The Muggles around here don't pay attention to us. Too busy with themselves. Now, my brother was an expert with the Imperius, but I always focused more on _Avada Kedavra_, which is what I would like _your_ focus to be on.'

'On the Killing Curse, sir?'

'Stop with all this "sir" nonsense. It's crap. I hate it. Don't do it. I was named after the inventor of the Dungbomb. I don't take myself too seriously, and neither should you – unless it is about work. Work I take _very_ seriously.'

'Well, the Killing Curse _is_ serious, isn't it?'

Mulciber nodded. 'Very much so. I have Seers who work for me who Know.'

'Know?'

'Yes. Know. They Know everything. They See everything. Anyway, I was told about how you developed the plan around the Killing Curse – having the one boy become an Animagus. You do your research in depth, don't you?'

'Yes. I like to be thorough. In fact,' Hermione said with a blush, 'at Hogwarts sometimes I would get in trouble for having my essays be _too_ thorough. I'd never get marked down, mind you, but certain professors would make comments about how they assigned twelve inches which meant they didn't want to read eighteen.'

'Ah, see, this is why I need you on my team. I can't give you your full assignment until Monday, of course. If I told you now, what would keep you from going off and telling everyone about the Department? No, no, can't disclose too much. Still, we can discuss other things. I assume since you showed up today you're interested in the position.'

'Yes, of course.'

'You'll have to sign a contract… you won't be allowed to discuss anything that's going on in the Department. The contract will make sure of that. Boils, purple pus, and other such nonsense. Got it?'

Hermione nodded, beginning to feel overwhelmed.

'Another thing you're not allowed to discuss is your salary.'

'Oh.' Hermione found herself feeling confused as well, now. 'Why is that?'

'Because we pay our personnel more money than any other Department. Since you're new you'll have to, of course, take a bit lower pay. That doesn't mean there isn't room for advancement. No, no, you can always make more money the longer you work. How much were you offered for the other jobs?'

'Um.' Hermione shifted in her seat. 'The Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures offered me two-hundred fifty Galleons a month.'

Alberic laughed. 'Is that all? Why, that's barely enough to live on!'

'It was only a starting salary,' Hermione defended. 'And it's not like in the Muggle world where my employers would take out taxes.'

Alberic considered this and nodded. 'Very well. Wouldn't you like to know what we're willing to offer you?'

'Yes,' said Hermione honestly, nodding her head.

'One thousand Galleons a month.'

'You can't be serious. That's five thousand pounds.'

'It's true.'

'And that's the _lowest_ paying salary in your Department? I hardly believe that, either.'

Alberic shrugged. 'For my personal team, it's the lowest. It's also what I'm offering you. I want you to work for me so I'm willing to pay you the best I can.'

'I don't even know what I would _do_ with all that money.'

Alberic shrugged. 'Buy yourself a new broom. The new line of Firebolts are out. I'd fly into work if I could. The wind in my hair…'

Hermione's mind was reeling. _One thousand Galleons a month? What's the catch?_ 'I suppose I don't see why you're offering to pay me so much.'

'I told you. You were Head Girl, yeah? When I look at you, I'm thinking, "She's smart, that one." And I know you'll do well. There are a lot of things coming up in the next few months that the wizarding world has to be prepared for, and in order for everyone else to be prepared, _we_ have to be able to find out _how_ to be prepared. Am I making sense? Sometimes I talk too fast, I know. Anyway, things are coming. I can't _tell _you because you haven't signed the contract. We'll do that on Monday, first thing in the morning. Do you have a Gringotts vault?'

Hermione paused. 'Um, no, not yet. I was going to get one as soon as I got a job. Then I was planning on moving my Muggle savings into the vault.'

Alberic nodded. 'Get a vault today, while you're in London, all right? That way we can just magic the money straight into your vault each week. We pay weekly, didn't you know? Each and every Monday, it'll be magicked right into your vault. The Goblins do all that for us. Never steal any of it, though. Weird, that, isn't it?'

'Yes, weird,' replied Hermione, realising it was probably just best to agree with whatever babble was coming out of Alberic's mouth.

'Ah, our food is here. Good on us, then!'

XXXXXXX

Hermione walked back to the Ministry after lunch. Alberic insisted she walk with him down to Level Nine. His office was the first door in the Department, and while nothing would be signed or made official until Monday, he wanted to show her his office so that she could see his nameplate and picture on the wall. That way, she would, for sure, know everything they had discussed over lunch was legit.

When she left, Hermione considered just Apparating straight back to The Burrow, but as the lift stopped on level seven, she impulsively got off. Looking around, she wondered why she was doing this. Ron had been awful to her all week and here she was, at the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

'Here about tickets?' a small witch with grey hair sitting behind a large desk asked her.

'Tickets for what?' asked Hermione.

The witch rolled her eyes. 'The World Cup! It's tonight, isn't it?'

'I wouldn't know.'

'I wasn't asking.'

'Oh.' Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

'They're having it a bit early this year. It's just so cold there.'

'Where?'

The witch rolled her eyes again. '_Alaska_! The United States made it into the World Cup finals, although _how_ nobody knows. Barrow, Alaska – hardly any Muggles there. But it's so cold they had to have the Cup a little earlier than usual. You didn't want tickets, did you?'

'No, ma'am.'

'Good, because we're all out.'

'Actually, I was wondering, when does the new season start?'

'The new Quidditch season? Well, all the teams have try-outs beginning of August. Games start in October after two months of practises. Then, there are play-offs and finals and all of that for the World Cup. Of course, only the national teams can try for the Cup. The other teams, the smaller British teams, for example, can't go.'

'Like the Chudley Cannons,' offered Hermione.

'Correct. They could win titles in Britain, but only the English National Team could actually advance to the Cup. They play all the other national teams. Say, why are you asking?'

Hermione only grinned.

XXXXXXX

Back at The Burrow, Hermione used her wand to break down Ron's door. He was lying on his bed, on top of the covers, but fast asleep. He didn't wake up as his door went flying, only grunted and turned over. Hermione chucked the thick stack of rolled up parchment at him; it hit him right in the face.

'Hey!' he cried out, sitting up quickly. He looked down at the parchment, tied together with red string, and then looked up at Hermione. 'What's the big idea? I was having a nap…'

'The big idea is _that_,' snapped Hermione, motioning towards the parchment.

'Where've you been all day?'

'Well, if you hadn't been ignoring me all week, you would know that today I went to have an interview and accept my job at the Department of Mysteries. On Monday I'll officially be an Unspeakable.'

'Oh.'

'And while I was at the Ministry I stopped by the Department of Magical Games and Sports and I actually talked to the Captain and the manager of the English National Team, and _that_ is information about try-outs in a couple weeks. _That_ is why I missed dinner here tonight – because I was talking you up and trying to find out exactly what was needed for their team! The manager said he went to all of the Hogwarts matches, y'know. He is partial to players who went there because he was a student himself forty years ago. He _knows_ who you are. Not by name, but by your hair and the fact you played for Gryffindor.'

Ron looked down at the parchment, looking almost afraid.

'Why'd you do this?' he whispered.

'I figured, you like Quidditch so much it might be something you could do until next year when you reapply to the Auror program.'

Ron's eyes lifted to Hermione's face and his ears reddened. He had on a pained expression.

'Although, I don't know why I did. You've been terrible to me all week long and you're obviously bursting with gratitude now! Forget it.' Hermione turned to walk out of the room, but she heard Ron jump from his bed and run over to her.

Grabbing her by the arm, Ron turned her around and pulled her into a fierce hug.

'I'm sorry,' he said into her hair.

'All right.'

'Do you forgive me for being awful?'

'No.'

Ron pulled back. 'Why not?'

'Because you didn't tell me _why_ you were so awful. What's going on, Ron? You've never not talked to me this long – not since we've been together anyway.'

'I found the letters he wrote you.'

Hermione was silent. She'd been right.

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Tell you that I've been writing to Harry for the last month? Ron, when he wrote that first letter you came completely unhinged. Harry needs to know we'll be there for him after he's figured everything out. I couldn't abandon him, even though he left us. I let him know how we're all doing, and I'd like to think I help him figure out some of what's going on in his head. I'm good at that stuff – the emotional stuff.'

'I felt… betrayed…'

'Betrayed?' Hermione took both of Ron's hands in hers. 'What on earth would make you feel betrayed?'

'Harry _left_ us. He left Ginny. He wouldn't let us help him. And he wrote us that letter, telling us he was all right and all that rot, but Hermione, it didn't make me feel any less hacked off at him. I wanted to hate him. And then I saw those letters and I felt like… like you were… taking his side… or something.'

'I'm not on anyone's side.'

'I wanted you to hate him, too.'

'I could never hate Harry.'

'I know,' Ron mumbled. 'I am the biggest git.'

Hermione nodded. 'Yes, you are.'

'And you have every right to be angry with me for finding those letters in your room…'

Hermione shook her head. 'Normally I would be, but this has been a terrible, terrible week. You were awful to me the entire time.'

'I know.' Ron winced. 'I _am_ terrible. I woke up a few times at night and I knew you were crying your sleep and I didn't go to you.'

Hermione frowned.

'I should have. I always do. Holy shit, Hermione, I'm sorry. I can't believe you went and talked to the Department of Magical Games and Sports about Quidditch for me, either. You're too good to me.'

Hermione nodded. 'I know I am.'

'Why are you still here?'

'Where else would I go?'

Ron shook his head. 'No, I mean with me. I was such a jerk this week and you still did nice things for me. I would've broken up with me.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'You don't break up with someone because they're stupid gits. You'll have to do a lot worse than be a prat for a week to make me break up with you, y'know. I'm smart enough to know that you would snap out of it and tell me what was wrong.'

Ron smiled. 'My genius.' He chucked her playfully underneath her chin.

'I'm still mad at you.'

'I said I was sorry.' Ron studied her for a moment. 'I made you cry. I haven't done that in a long time.' He pulled her into a hug again. 'I swear, I'll never do it again.'

'Don't promise you'll never make me cry again, just promise that next time you're mad at me, you'll tell me instead of wallowing in it and being a jerk to everyone, especially me.'

'I promise. And Hermione?'

'What?'

'For the Quidditch stuff – thank you. It means a lot to me, really.'

'I know.'

'Hermione?'

'_What_?'

'I love you.'

XXXXXXX

'Harry didn't make it either.'

Ron looked up from the Quidditch papers Hermione had given him the night before. He wanted to read them thoroughly so he'd flopped himself down on the floor in front of the fireplace in the lounge and began to do just that. It was barely after breakfast and Hermione was still wearing her pyjamas. They weren't the pink ones with the yellow ducks that Ron had grown to love best on her, but they were very girly nonetheless.

'What are you on about?'

'Well, now that you know I've been writing Harry, I can tell you what he wrote me today.'

'Speaking of which – how did you get his letters? I never noticed any owls dropping things off for you and I especially never saw Hedwig.'

'Er… now, don't get mad, all right?'

Ron sat up. 'All right.'

'Harry sent the letters to George and he gave them to me.'

Ron wanted to get angry, he really did, but he pushed it away. 'Oh. And George was here this morning for breakfast, wasn't he?'

'Yes.'

Ron nodded. If his girlfriend wanted to write Harry, he should be okay with that. He _was _okay with it. He couldn't control everything she did, and if he tried he would lose her. He wasn't so thick that he didn't know that.

'Anyway,' continued Hermione, 'Harry was rejected from the Auror program as well.'

'What!'

'He said he was never really sure whether or not he wanted to do it anymore – after killing Voldemort and what have you. But he was rejected.'

'On what basis? You don't have to register yourself if you're a Metamorphmagus, do you?'

Hermione shook her head. 'No. They didn't give him a definitive reason. They only told him he wasn't the type of candidate the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was looking for in an Auror.'

'But Harry defeated You-Know-Who! He _killed_ the Darkest wizard, oh I don't know, _ever_. How could he _not_ be the perfect candidate to be an Auror?'

Hermione sat down on the sofa, pushing her wayward strands of hair out of her face. 'It's too odd. You both should have gotten into the program. Honestly, I have no idea what they're thinking. Tonks is going to go barmy when Harry tells her this. She's pregnant, by the way.'

'Wait, what?'

'Harry's still living at Professor Lupin's. Tonks found out a few days ago that she's pregnant, which is good because she chose to be reassigned to more office work.'

'That's good. She could really get hurt if she's out there fighting and duelling, yeah? Still, I'd be afraid for that baby. She's liable to trip over her shoelaces and land on her stomach.'

Hermione smiled. 'She'll be fine. Lupin does a good job not expressing his emotions, but Harry said he's really, really excited.'

'Good. That's good.'

'Still, though… What's going on with the Ministry? It doesn't make any sense.'

'Come to think of it, Dad told me there's a lot of really strange things going on over there. The new minister seems to be blind to it, though.'

'What kind of strange things?' asked Hermione.

'People getting fired and personnel going missing. It's not like Bertha Jorkins back in fourth year or anything. It's people from almost every office. Dad said it's rather unnerving. He's been trying to keep a low profile and not ask too many questions except to people he knows really well. I don't reckon he wants to get fired.'

'Or go missing,' mused Hermione.

Ron nodded. 'Right.' He leaned over, resting his chin in his hands. From the stairwell, Ron could hear something banging down the steps. He watched as his sister dragged her trunk behind her, huffing and puffing.

'Hi,' she said, wiping a thin sheen of sweat from her temples.

'Uh, hi. What're you doing, Gin?' asked Ron.

'Didn't Mum tell you? I'm moving out!'

'What!'

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Fred and Angelina are going to be gone for another two weeks, so I'm staying with George and am going to work in the shop.'

'If he needs help in the same, can't you just Floo there every day?'

'Too complicated. Besides, once Fred and Angelina get back I'm going to be going to Romania anyway.'

'_What!_'

'Honestly!' snapped Ginny. 'Charlie said I could come and visit and he would make sure I got on the train to Hogwarts on September first. Look, it's already the first of August, yeah? So I only have a month left until school. Next summer I'll have to deal with picking a career and all that rubbish. All my summer homework is finished so I want to spend my last free summer doing fun things. And it's certainly not fun being around The Burrow all bloody day. Right boring, it is.'

Ron frowned. He didn't like the idea of his sister going off to London, wandering the streets by herself. She was going to be seventeen in less than two weeks, he knew, but he still felt he needed to protect her, seeing as he was her older brother and all. He didn't trust George not to let Ginny get into trouble.

'Mum's already said I could,' Ginny added.

'I'm surprised,' said Hermione. 'She's always so sad that everyone else is grown-up and gone.'

Ginny shrugged. 'We talked. We've had an understanding.'

Ron raised his eyebrows. He had no idea what having a talk and coming to an understanding with his mother meant. Ginny was stubborn and could play dirty, so the thought was actually rather scary.

'Well, bye, then.'

Without bothering to even hug her brother or Hermione good-bye, Ginny took hold of her trunk, grabbed a handful of Floo powder, yelling, 'Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes!' With a whoosh of green flame, she was gone.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued…

XXXXXXX

A/N: For our American readers: Rowling said that one Galleon is roughly five pounds, so using the current exchange rate, 5000 pounds rounds roughly to a little more than 7330 dollars. So, if in the U.S. Hermione would be making roughly 7330 a month, or a little less than 88 thousand dollars a year.

Also, yes, I have finally had my baby (he was overdue, how rude) so my updates will be more spread out. For those of you who like my Rebecca / Draco pairing (ahem, you know who you are), don't worry, I have them in my outline so you won't have to be disappointed.

As always, read and review! And I hope you're enjoying this new storyline b/c I know I am.


	3. Secret Projects and Second Choices

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Three: Secret Projects and Second Choices**

XXXXXXX

Hermione left the Department of Mysteries at half one on Monday to go grab something to eat at the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley – as she heard it was 'the' place to go during one's lunch time at the Ministry. She was almost out of the Atrium when she heard her name being called. Spinning around, she watched as Mr Weasley ran up to her, robes flying behind him.

Out of breath, Mr Weasley smiled and said, 'Off to lunch?'

Hermione nodded.

'Mind if I join you?'

'Not at all.'

'Good, then, let's go.'

Once they were safely away from the Ministry and out of sight of Muggles, they Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron and ordered their food and drink. Mr Weasley wrung his hands together.

'Are you all right, there, Mr Weasley?' asked Hermione.

'Er, yes, yes. Hermione,' Mr Weasley said as he leaned over the table and lowered his voice, 'there's something going on at the Ministry.'

Hermione blanched. 'What do you mean?'

'I mean… don't you think it's _odd_ that not only Ron, but Harry as well, didn't make it into the Auror program?'

Hermione nodded. She had been thinking it was rather strange indeed. 'Well, yes. Yes, I've been wondering about that.'

'Have you met the new Minister yet?'

Hermione shook her head.

'I can't be completely sure, but I think he's a former Death Eater.'

'What!'

'Shh!' warned Mr Weasley. 'His name is Alex McDougal, and while he's really a normal fellow, originally from Ireland, they say, he seems awfully familiar… I seem to remember someone looking just like him at Malfoy's house. I could be wrong, of course, but the moment he was appointed, people began to get fired here and there and, then, there are several personnel missing – have you heard about that?'

Hermione nodded. 'Ron was telling me. What do you think it means?'

'I'm not sure. I have a few theories myself. None of them seem very likely.'

'Right, well, if the new Minister _is_ a Death Eater, then maybe he's trying to get rid of anyone who was against You-Know-Who and sort of… start anew.'

'That's what I was thinking. Shh, shh, no more talk about that now; here's our food.' Mr Weasley straightened up. 'Excellent! Now, Hermione, tell me more about those didgy-tail cameros.'

'Didgy-what? Oh. Digital cameras. Well…'

XXXXXXX

Ginny looked around the twins' flat. Indeed, it looked very much like their room at The Burrow had. Discarded shoes and socks lay everywhere, as well as the random shirt and pair of trousers. On every table and counter was some prank-in-the-making, and on the table in the kitchen area was a black scorch mark where something had blown up… and blown up big.

'What were you making when that happened?' Ginny asked George, nodding towards his kitchen table.

'Er… Dunno. Forget.'

'Oh.' Ginny eyed him carefully. 'It's something top-secret, isn't it?'

'Something like that.'

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'So, when do we start work?'

'As soon as the sun rises.'

Ginny arched a ginger-coloured eyebrow. 'Are you serious?'

George snorted. ''Course.' He shuffled through a stack of parchment on his kitchen counter. 'We don't cook, y'know.'

'I know, you're always at The Burrow for meals. It's like you've never left,' replied Ginny cheekily. She leaned against the table. 'Y'know, I could help you.'

'Help me?' George looked up at her with surprise in his eyes. 'Help me with what?'

'Well, Fred's gone for two weeks, and the two of you are too dedicated to your jokes to not work on them. I can help you until Fred comes back. I've got _loads_ of ideas saved up – mostly from watching Ron and Hermione sneak about. The things I've thought about doing to them… I can just imagine Ron's reaction if when they're all heated up _without_ silencing charms – the gits – his willy were to turn purple. Or pink! But only at the precise moment… when he's all riled up.'

George snorted. 'You've put far too much thought into this, considering this is our brother we're talking about.'

'You don't understand what it's like living with those two.'

'Ah, so this _is_ more than just you wanting to have fun the last summer of Hogwarts.' George rolled his eyes. 'I don't know how you got Mum to believe that anyway.'

Ginny shrugged.

'Besides, are Hermione and ickle Ronniekins that bad, really?'

'They'd drive anyone mad. The _look_ they give each other – ugh. Like they want to rip each others' clothes off. And, then, they'll talk about having sex without ever saying "sex" and _that's_ the most annoying of all. As if I don't know exactly what they're talking about, yeah?'

'Yeah.' George looked at the kitchen floor. 'Reminds you of Harry, then?'

Ginny swallowed and caught George's eye. She nodded and sighed deeply. 'Well, can you blame me?' Ginny let out a disgruntled groan and punched the tabletop. 'Is this how you feel whenever Fred's preoccupied with Angelina?'

'It's not so bad anymore. She's really good about letting us alone to invent our jokes and things. She's got an impish streak herself, if you can believe that.'

'Oh, I believe it. It makes you sad for her, though, doesn't it? Since she's never around.'

George's eyes narrowed. 'Sad for whom?'

Ginny smiled devilishly herself. 'Oh, _you_ know. I know you have a girlfriend, George, even if no one else does.'

'Well, you best keep that information secret, all right? Damn, you're just as bad as me and Fred… and you don't even have a twin!'

'I won't tell anyone if you help me invent some jokes.'

George nodded. 'Fine,' he relented. 'We start tomorrow, bright and early, as always.'

XXXXXXX

Mulciber motioned for Hermione to sit down in one of the chairs facing his desk. He waved his wand at the door, closing it and silencing the room. Hermione shifted, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable.

'So, you've settled in and everything, I take it?' Mulciber didn't wait for an answer before rushing on, 'I want you to start researching Killing Curses and Potions. Okay? Mainly, I want you to focus on that potion you brewed that killed Voldemort's soul. Yes – I know all about that, but I think I've mentioned that before, haven't I? I have Seers who Know everything, it seems. Don't worry, it wasn't an illegal potion, although it probably will be. It was actually a forgotten potion – do you know what I mean? So old that no one today even knew about it. Well, obviously that's not true; you knew about it, didn't you?'

'Well I… I researched it,' said Hermione. 'I found it.'

'Yes, you certainly did. What you have to do now is keep researching it. Look into the potion further. Find out about any lasting effects it has… on the people around us – or, well, the people around when it happened, when Voldemort's soul died.'

'Well – all right.'

'You understand my meaning, don't you?'

Hermione nodded. 'Yes, but is there a specific reason you want me to do this?'

'That's unclear as of yet. I'll tell you more when I know more. But remember!' Mulciber boomed. 'Don't tell _anyone_ what goes on here. You signed the contract. You know what'll happen. Until tomorrow.' Mulciber dismissed Hermione with a wave of us hand.

As she stood, he took out his wand and opened his office door. Hermione walked out, still feeling unsettled, but went ahead and left the Ministry to Apparate to her temporary home at The Burrow.

Ron was outside on his Cleansweep, tossing the old beat-up Quaffle up and down, looking a bit downtrodden. Hermione watched him through the kitchen window, the room she Apparated to. Walking outside, Hermione called to him, causing Ron to fumble and drop the Quaffle. Hermione picked it up and looked at it. It really was rather worn…

'Hi,' said Ron gloomily, flying back to the ground and dismounting his broom. 'How was work?'

'Oh, fine.'

'You don't seem fine.' It sounded like a challenge.

Hermione chewed on her full bottom lip for a moment. 'Well… I don't know. Your father and I had lunch today.'

Ron paled a little. 'Oh? What'd you talk about?'

'Nothing, really. Just some Ministry stuff. Odd things are going on and in my Department—' Hermione stopped abruptly.

'What about your Department?'

'I can't talk about it.'

Ron rolled his eyes. 'Whatever.'

'No, I can't. I signed a contract. Anyway, I can tell you that I'm working on a very, very strange project. I'm not sure what to think about it, but _something_ about it makes my stomach lurch. My boss assigned me to it personally, so I keep thinking I should be worried about _him_ and not so much the project, but something in the back of my mind tells me to trust him.'

Ron raised his eyebrows. 'Really? You're usually so sceptical about everything.'

'I am not!'

Ron snorted. 'Yeah, you are.' He smiled. 'C'mon, what about Harry's Firebolt in third year? You didn't trust it wasn't jinxed, now did you?'

'It _could_ have been!'

'That's my point!' laughed Ron. He pulled Hermione to him and kissed the top of her bushy head. 'But if you trust this bloke then he must be trustworthy, yeah?'

'I suppose.' Hermione pulled back a little, but not enough to break contact. 'Were you trying to practise?'

Ron shrugged. 'I figured I should at least get used to riding on my broomstick again. My bum's a bit sore, now, really.' Ron gave Hermione a lopsided grin; she rolled her eyes. 'Hey! It's true. You would have a sore bum as well if you rode a broom for two hours.'

'You were up there for two hours?'

'Yup,' answered Ron with a nod. Then, he shrugged and slunk away from Hermione a little.

'What's wrong?'

'Just thinking.'

'About?' pressured Hermione.

'About what happens if I don't make one of the Quidditch teams. What will I do then? Dad says there aren't many openings at the Ministry – except for two in his office, but I don't want to work with Muggle Artefacts. Or the misuse of them, rather.' Ron frowned. 'I'm going to be unemployed and totally bored out of my mind here.'

'Oh, you'll be fine. Why do you worry so much?'

Ron shrugged. 'Dunno.'

'Even if you didn't make it, I still think you're the best Keeper. My King.'

'Say it,' said Ron.

Hermione smiled. 'Weasley is _my_ King.'

'Again,' said Ron throatily, pulling Hermione closer to him.

Her smile grew wider as she felt his arousal against her stomach. 'Weasley is my King,' she said again, only this time it came out as a whisper.

'Again…'

'Weasley is—'

But Hermione didn't get to finish before Ron plunged forward, his mouth against hers, in an almost-bruising kiss. Her hands found their way up to his shaggy ginger hair, pulling him even closer to her. As soon as Ron's hands found her breast through her jumper, Hermione arched her back into him and—

'RON!'

Ron broke away immediately and stepped back, panting. He looked scared and his eyes scanned around him, looking for the owner of that awful shriek – his mother.

'RON!'

'She's inside the house,' said Ron, letting out a breath. 'C'mon.' He took Hermione's hand as they walked back inside The Burrow. Mrs Weasley was starting dinner, spoons magically stirring batter inside several different bowls.

'Oh, hello, dear,' she said to Hermione. 'I didn't know you were home.'

'I just Apparated in.'

'Must not've heard you. How're things? You didn't happen to see Arthur before you left, did you?'

'No, ma'am.'

'Ah. Just wondering when he'll be home.' Mrs Weasley wiped her hands on the blue apron tied around her waist. 'He's been working overtime again now that one of the people from his Department was fired.' Mrs Weasley shook her head in what looked like disbelief. 'I don't think I like this new Minister of Magic. What's his name again?'

Hermione had to shrug her shoulders. 'McDougal,' she said, 'and I've been told it's best not to talk about him, even if you have good things to say. Too many people have lost their jobs because of just that.'

Mrs Weasley shook her head sadly. 'What a shame. Anyhow, George said he's coming over for dinner tonight. I suppose he'll drag Ginny along.'

'Say, Mum, why _is_ Ginny staying with George? I can't believe you let her go.'

'That is none of your business! Now, get out your wand and peel those potatoes before I make you do it the Muggle way.'

XXXXXXX

That night, in her room, Hermione flipped through her old Potions books. True, they didn't have any information on the one Potion she was instructed to research, but the books had much needed information about different types of soul-potions. If Hermione wanted to be thorough, which she always did, then she needed to know the properties of several potions to fully understand the effects of the one she used against Voldemort.

A knock at her door sent her heart jumping in her chest. _Merlin_, she thought, _who in the world is that?_ She didn't really have to ask the question; there would only be one person at her door at that hour of night anyway.

Ron.

He looked sleepy, but sexy, standing in her doorway, pyjama bottoms riding low on his hips. Smiling, he yawned.

'I saw your light was on.'

'Why aren't you asleep?' asked Hermione.

'Why aren't you?'

Hermione narrowed her eyes. 'I'm _working_.'

'Working?'

'Researching.'

Ron chuckled. 'You'd think you were back at Hogwarts. Researching. I like it that you don't change.'

'Why are you here, Ron?'

Ron shrugged. 'I dunno.' Ron moved past her and walked over to her desk. He looked down at her old Potions textbooks. 'What's…'

Hermione watched as his eyes scanned over the books. She couldn't tell him about her work in the Department of Mysteries – that was the point – the whole Department was a _mystery_. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't guess. There wasn't anything in the contract about not letting someone guess. There was no way Ron would be able to guess with just her Potions books out, but he was smart enough to figure it out if she left enough clues laying out.

No! She couldn't do that. It would be like cheating.

_You've cheated and broken the rules before_.

'Why are you looking at Potions? Snape's not your new boss is he?'

Hermione shook her head.

Ron cleared his throat. 'I do know why I came in here.'

'Oh?'

The tips of Ron's ears turned red. 'I couldn't sleep.'

'Bad dream?'

'No. I don't really have any bad dreams, anymore, y'know.'

Hermione nodded. She knew. She was the only one who still had bad dreams. 'Why couldn't you sleep, then?'

'I dunno.'

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He _did_ know, and she hated it when he did this – purposefully avoiding the answer to a question.

'Ron,' she said warningly.

'I want to sleep here tonight.'

'Your parents are downstairs. You know it's too risky.'

'Oh, for fuck's sake. I _never_ get to be with you anymore. _Once_ since the end of the term, 'Mione. _Once_.'

Hermione pushed back a smile. 'Oh, don't be such a boy. You act like you're full of nothing but raging hormones. Randy git.'

'Did you just call me a "randy git"?' asked Ron, clearly shocked.

Hermione nodded.

Ron lunged forward and grabbed Hermione by the waist, landing them both on the centre of her bed. He began to suck at a bit of flesh on her neck, which always made her moan softly in the back of her throat. Sitting up just a bit, Ron pushed all of the offending bushy hair away from Hermione's face. His eyes danced all over her, flicking back and forth between her eyes, her lips, and her cheeks.

When his eyes stopped on her eyes, he breathed out, 'Merlin, I love you.'

'I know,' said Hermione in a very hushed tone. 'I love you, too.'

'I mean, I _really_ love you. You know that, yeah?'

Hermione felt a bit confused. 'Of course I know that. You don't think I know that?'

'I just want to make sure you believe it.'

'Why?'

'Because… sometimes my temper gets in the way and I don't really think you know how much I care when I'm brooding.'

Hermione smiled. 'I know. I know you _really_ love me, just like I know I _really_ love you.'

'Good.'

'Now, shut it and kiss me.'

Ron did, and his hands wandered to her pyjamas and soon garments were being discarded onto the floor.

XXXXXXX

Ginny enjoyed working at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. During slow business hours, she and George worked on jokes of the more risqué nature. But now, after having worked at the store for over a week, George trusted Ginny enough to run to the Leaky Cauldron to get food and drink (Butterbeer for Ginny, Firewhisky for himself) and leave Ginny in charge of things.

She had just waved good-bye to a paying customer when she dropped a Sickle on the ground behind the counter. The bell to the door rang as she bent down to pick it up.

'Hey, George, you here?'

Ginny froze at the voice. She swallowed and looked at the Sickle in her hand. She couldn't hide behind the counter forever, but she didn't know if she could stand up and face the owner of the voice either.

'George?'

Ginny winced. Slowly, she stood up and put the Sickle carefully in the correct drawer and shut the register. She forced her eyes away from the counter and looked up and settled on Harry's.

_Harry_.

The owner – the beautiful owner of that voice. His hair was longer, but still as unruly as ever, covering what was left of his faded scar. Everything else looked exactly the same, normal. Except… except his eyes. Ginny noticed how they grew large when they saw her, and turned glassy and wet. He seemed to be having trouble swallowing.

'Gin,' he whispered.

'Hi, Harry.' Ginny stood up straighter. She knew she probably looked a lot braver than she felt. 'Looking to buy a Canary Crème? Or perhaps a Ton-Tongue Toffee? I know how much your cousin liked it that time.'

Harry flushed. 'Er, no. I was looking for your brother, actually.' He stuffed something into his back pocket. 'How are you?'

'Fine.'

Harry wet his lips and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. 'I actually had a letter written to you and a present to send for your birthday tomorrow.'

'That's nice.'

'It's not a very good letter, but… well, I tried.'

'Right.'

Harry took a step closer to the counter. 'I can either let Hedwig give you the letter or I can explain now.'

Ginny crossed her arms. 'Do it now, please.'

Harry nodded once. 'You have to promise not to get mad at Hermione, though.'

'What does Hermione have to do with…?'

'Just promise me. She wanted to tell you, but I wouldn't let her.'

'Fine,' relented Ginny, 'I promise.'

'I've been writing to Hermione all summer. I thought talking to her or Ron might help, but I didn't want to see them. Seeing them would just bring up too many… emotions, and I'm rubbish with that sort of thing. I was never given time to sort things out, and I was going right insane after Cedric's death, y'know?'

Ginny nodded.

'And suddenly it was _over_. I mean, Voldemort was just… gone. I didn't have anything keeping me from dealing with everything. My parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore… I couldn't bear facing anyone, really. I suppose this doesn't make much sense?'

'It makes sense, Harry,' said Ginny softly, uncrossing her arms. 'But I don't know why you didn't let _me_ help you. Why Hermione?'

Harry swallowed hard. 'Because I felt guilty.'

'About killing Voldemort?'

Harry shook his head. 'No…'

'Then, what?'

'I was guilty that I said I loved you.'

'Were you lying?' Ginny's heart began to race and she had to resist putting a hand to her chest to calm herself.

'No, not exactly. Look, Gin, living with the Dursleys was… Well, I can't really explain it. You lived with this amazing family with eight people who loved you – and told you they loved you. I was always treated like a freak, and no one loved me. They told me so. I know your family loves me, but it's not really the same… They're not kin to me. It sounds ungrateful – Hermione told me that – but it's the truth. They're the best family – you're the best family I've ever had, but it still doesn't help me much because for ten years, since I was only one year old, I was treated like some sort of swine or something. I thought it made me incapable _to_ love.'

'Your reaction after Sirius' death should show you that's not true,' said Ginny.

'I suppose,' replied Harry, 'but I was just really confused. I knew I cared for you, but with all that happened with Voldemort, I just wasn't ready to deal with any doubts over whether or not I only _cared_ for you or if I was in… love… with you.'

Harry looked so sad now, Ginny felt her heart wrench up. She took in several deep breaths and stared at Harry, not sure she was believing what she was hearing.

'Being alone I was able to brood' – Harry sniggered – 'and think and do all the things I needed to do in order to… heal myself. I suppose "heal" is the right word.' He shrugged. 'And I realised the past month while I was gone, that, _damn_, Gin, I missed you.'

It was Ginny's turn to swallow hard.

Harry rubbed at his eye and Ginny suspected it was to ward off tears instead of itching it.

'Honest,' he added, almost as an afterthought.

'Harry…'

'I'm sorry, Gin. I really, really am.'

'You hurt me, Harry,' she said. 'You can't just expect me to take you back so readily, can you?'

'Er, Gin… I _can't_ take you back. Not yet, anyway. Believe me, I want to. I want you back so badly it hurts. But now is not the time.'

Ginny felt her entire body deflate. _I will not cry. I will not cry_. '…What?'

XXXXXXX

Ron paced back and forth in front of the fireplace in the kitchen. He barely noticed Hermione tutting him from the table where a slue of books surrounded her.

'Where _is_ he?'

'I don't know,' Hermione said automatically for the tenth time that hour.

Ron eyed her books – more research about potions. How dull. She could at least be researching a subject that didn't make bile rise to his throat at the thought of it. He recognised one of the books as the one Hermione got the potion which killed Voldemort's soul from. Why she would be reading that book again, Ron couldn't figure out. Then again, Hermione loved research. She thrived on knowing, well, everything. Bloody intellect. Ron sighed; she was still _his_ bloody intellect, and the way her eyes grew wide whenever she found something important was endearing.

'God_damn_ it!' cried Ron, slumping down in one of the chairs across the table from Hermione. She didn't even look up from her books.

He was disgruntled. Well, that was an understatement. Yesterday he'd tried out for the Quidditch team – the English National Quidditch team. The team that could possibly bring him to the World Cup, if he made it. Ever since Hermione had given him all the try-out information, Ron had been having dreams – fantastic dreams – of playing in the World Cup. Granted, the Cup was only played once every four years, but by that time Hermione would be sitting in the stands with some smaller version of herself – a girl with her nose stuck in a book, but with red hair. And Hermione would point up into the sky and say, 'That's Daddy!'

Are boys supposed to have dreams like that? Ron shook his head. They were subconscious dreams – dreams he only had while he was asleep. Sure, he _day_dreamed about playing Quidditch, but not in the same detail. No, his World Cup dreams involving Hermione only haunted him at night. And they were only haunting because Ron didn't think boys thought about stuff like kids.

Ron shook his head again. _Stop it_, he told himself.

After the try-outs, each potential player was asked to leave behind an owl. There were far too many potentials for the Manager and Captain to send out letters to each of them, so Ron gladly left behind Pig.

And just as he was about to ask for the eleventh time where the hell his bloody owl was, Pig came flying through the opened kitchen window. He zoomed around the kitchen, a rather large envelope for such a small bird tied to his leg.

'Bloody pigeon,' snapped Ron, trying his best to snatch the owl out of the sky.

Hermione put down her quill and smiled. 'Here,' she said softly, reaching her arm out.

Pig zoomed around the kitchen a few more times before settling down on her arm. Carefully, Hermione untied the envelope and handed it to Ron. After having the back of his neck scratched, Pig took off again, this time out the window and around The Burrow.

'Aren't you going to open it?'

Ron stared at the envelope in his hand. Only a few weeks earlier he had been absolutely positive he was going to open the official Ministry envelope and find an acceptance letter to the Auror program tucked neatly inside. What if this envelope held another rejection? Ron wasn't so sure he could handle it. This, he felt, was his last chance to have a job – a career – doing something he liked to do. Doing paperwork and un-charming Muggle artefacts wasn't something that sounded like it'd be any fun, and if this was a rejection, that's exactly the type of job Ron had to look forward to. Oh, joy.

Hermione walked around the table and stood behind Ron. She bent down and wrapped her arms around his neck. He didn't move at all in his chair, just stared blankly at the envelope. He felt Hermione rest her cheek against his and reach out with one of her hands to take the envelope. She opened it and took out the letter, holding it out in front of them so they both could read it.

Ron's heart began to beat faster and faster with each line. Once he reached the end, he got up from the table and went outside.

XXXXXXX

Hermione watched, somewhat amused, as Ron removed himself from her embrace and walked out of the kitchen. She suppressed a giggle as he let out a walloping shout and did a little dance before flopping down on the ground, surrounded by the grass of the garden.

Walking outside, Hermione finally gave in and laughed out of happiness. She hated it when Ron turned to self-pity and doubt, when he thought he was rubbish and that the world thought so, too. It just wasn't true. She knew he was great and smart. Getting recruited to a Quidditch team proved she was right, and Hermione prided herself on almost always being right.

'So, how does it feel to be the Reserve Keeper?'

'Amazing,' said Ron, his voice laced with awe. 'I really didn't think I was good enough. _Am_ I good enough?'

'Shut it,' said Hermione firmly. 'If you weren't good enough, you wouldn't have been chosen. You did amazingly after that final game fifth year – once you stopped listening to that ridiculous song the Slytherins made up.'

'You didn't even see that game.'

Hermione felt her face heat up and she tried to push back the threatening blush. 'I wanted to. Honest. Anyway,' she said, wanting to change the subject, 'tell me about being a Reserve. What exactly does that mean?' Hermione sat down next to Ron in the grass, crossing her legs underneath her.

'Er, well, the English National Reserve Team practises with the regular team. We have scrimmages against them, but we sort of have our own Captain to run drills with us and stuff. I don't know exactly; all of this is stuff I learned at the try-outs when the Captain was discussing how practises were run and stuff.'

'Well, it sounds great,' said Hermione, trying to pour as much enthusiasm into her voice as she possibly could. 'Your mother is going to hug you to death when she finds out.'

'You don't think she'll be disappointed?'

Hermione shook her head. 'No, not at all.' Well, of course Hermione didn't think Mrs Weasley would be disappointed. The two women had actually discussed Ron's future career. Mrs Weasley had the same concerns as Hermione. She didn't understand what was going on at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to reject Ron, but while part of her was happy he wasn't going to be an Auror ('It's such a dangerous job and Ron's my last baby boy. I want him alive and unscarred,' she had said), the other part of her was worried Ron would be miserable having any other job. Mrs Weasley wanted her son happy, the exact same thing Hermione wanted.

'She's still in Ottery St Catchpole, y'know, picking up some groceries,' said Hermione, 'so why don't you go boast to Ginny about getting picked. It's her last day with George. Unless you're too excited to Apparate to Diagon Alley without splinching yourself.'

'I think I can manage,' replied Ron, before standing up and Disappartating.

XXXXXXX

Ginny sat on George's sofa, reading a book. She jumped and nearly lost her page when she heard a loud 'crack' behind her. Wheeling around, she saw her youngest brother standing behind the sofa.

'What are you doing here? You gave me quite a start.'

'Sorry. I – what's wrong? You look terrible.'

Ginny frowned. She knew she looked terrible, but she didn't need one of her brothers reminding her of that fact. She hadn't slept well the past few days, ever since Harry had walked into the joke shop, looking for George in order to give him another letter to Hermione, only to find her instead.

'Ginny?' Ron walked around the sofa and sat down on the arm.

Knowing she couldn't keep up a charade of 'nothing's wrong', Ginny sighed and decided to just get it over with and tell him.

'Well,' she started, 'I saw Harry.'

'You did? Did you talk to him?'

Ginny nodded. 'I saw him a couple of days ago. He came into the shop looking for George. We talked a bit. He apologised and all that rot. Said he had a letter written to me that he was going to send on my birthday, but he told me what the letter said instead. Said he missed me and wanted me to be his girlfriend again.'

'So, if Harry wants you back why do you look so miserable?'

'Because even if he wants to be with me, he can't.'

Ron's face screwed up in confusion. 'Why not?'

'Because he's going to take the vacant position at Hogwarts for Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. It's his second choice for a job, but since he was rejected from the Auror program, it's his only choice. He can't date a student while he's a professor, _especially_ since it's a subject I have to take.'

'They're going to let an eighteen-year-old teach? Doesn't McGonagall know that's not the brightest thing to have him do?'

'There's not much choice. No one else wanted the job anyway. Everyone thinks it's cursed. Besides, last term McGonagall had to act as Headmistress _and_ as Transfiguration professor. Now, she's just going to be the Headmistress and since Harry was a Gryffindor he can take over as Head of House.'

Ron was obviously speechless; his mouth shaped a perfect 'O' and he didn't utter a word.

'Anyway, the whole idea of seeing Harry everyday, but knowing I can't be with him has made me a bit upset, that's all. Now, why are you hear anyway?'

'Oh.' Ron straightened up. 'I made the team.'

'You made the Quidditch team!' Ginny squealed in excited. 'That's amazing! I have a brother playing professional Quidditch! Holy crap, Ron, this is so exciting.'

Ron smiled. 'Thanks. It was my second choice for a job as well, but it should be a fun job nevertheless.'

'Right. Well, I think it's brilliant.'

'So do I.'

Ginny smiled back. 'Well, congratulations, Ron. I'd love to stay and chat some more, but I have to pack all of my stuff. Charlie's coming tomorrow morning early to get me. I haven't taken my Apparition test yet so we have to go by Portkey. His house isn't set up to the Floo Network. Dunno why.'

Ron nodded. 'Right, then. Take care, Ginny.'

With that, Ron Disapparated.

Ginny looked around the flat. She was, once again, alone. Harry was going to be at Hogwarts again. Every single day. And, once again, Ginny shed tears for loving the bloody Boy Who Lived and not being able to keep him.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued…

XXXXXXX

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed (please continue!!) and thanks to doraemon for lookin' over my fic and finding all the bizarre mistakes I made! :)

No worries, Rebecca comes back next chapter!!

As always, Read and Review! Thanks!  



	4. Essences and New Years

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Four: Essences and New Years**

XXXXXXX

Ginny found an empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express and stashed her trunk just before the train lurched away. She watched the passing countryside, alone, and for the first time it hit her that her old friends – Neville, Ron, Hermione… Harry – weren't there. Well, Harry _would_ be there, but she wouldn't be able to rekindle her friendship – relationship – with him. She figured there probably weren't actual rules against professor-student relationships, but she also figured the situation hadn't come up before. After all, it wasn't as though any student was fighting for extra attention from McGonagall or Flitwick.

The compartment door slid open a moment later. Ginny looked up and found a sixth-year Slytherin smiling awkwardly at her.

'Hi. Mind if I sit in here?'

Ginny shook her head. 'No, not at all.' She had to fake the enthusiasm in her voice, but not the sentiment. She didn't mind Rebecca. In fact, she'd rather grown to respect the girl for coming and helping them defeat Voldemort – whether or not it was in Rebecca's best interest.

'Thanks. Usually I sit with the other girls from my house in my year, but…'

'I know.'

Ever since word had gotten out somehow that Rebecca wasn't a pure-blood, the rest of Slytherin house had all sided against her. No one spoke to her unless somehow forced, and no one ever partnered up with her in any lessons. At the end of last term, Ginny sat with her in the library while Rebecca studied for OWLs and even walked around Hogsmeade with her during the last visit.

'How was your summer?' asked Rebecca.

'It was all right,' replied Ginny. 'I spent the last month with George and then with Charlie – my brothers.'

'Aye, sounds like fun, yeah?'

Ginny nodded.

'What about your other brother, the one that was in the safe house with us?'

'Ron? He's fine. He's a member of the English National Quidditch Team.'

Rebecca looked impressed. 'Wow. I thought he wanted to be an Auror, though, with Harry?'

'Neither of them made it into the program.'

Now Rebecca looked shocked. 'What? That doesn't make any sense.'

'I know.'

'Well, what's Harry doing, then?'

Ginny shifted in her seat. 'He's the new Defence professor.'

To this, Rebecca had no reply.

'We're just friends, now,' continued Ginny. 'I suppose it's for the best. What about Draco? He ever decide to remove his head from his arse?'

Rebecca smiled and shrugged. 'He's written. Short letters, but it's progress.'

'Is he living at his house?'

'Yeah, and the Order set up wards and things around the house – y'know, because not all of the Death Eaters have been caught yet. Draco's still… fearful for his life.' Rebecca sniggered. 'Although, you would never get him to admit to that.'

'He's such a boy.'

Smiling, Rebecca nodded. 'Yeah. But I like him that way. Anyway, back to Harry being the new Defence teacher. Who thought that was a good idea?'

'McGonagall must've. She's the Headmistress, after all. Right barmy idea, that. I don't know how he's going to be able to grade papers and things objectively – what with being friends with so many of us when he was a student?'

'My thoughts exactly. Still, wasn't he good at leading the DA?'

Ginny nodded. 'He taught all of us really well, actually. Everyone learned a lot, and even Neville improved.'

'Neville? He's the boy who always melted his cauldrons in Potions, isn't he?'

Ginny giggled. 'That's Neville all right.'

'Professor Snape always complained about him. Rather amusing, really.'

The food trolley came by just then and Ginny and Rebecca bought sweets to fill themselves up before the feast later that night at Hogwarts.

XXXXXXX

The Quidditch tent was empty, save Ron. He took his shower, letting the water wash away the sweat from his body, and slowly got dressed, a thousand thoughts running through his head. Practises usually began with warm-up laps around the pitch on their brooms. Then, they all got in a circle and threw the Quaffle back and forth. After that, Ron had to protect the goals.

Today's practise was especially gruelling. It was Sunday – not a normal day of practise, but the Captain called for it – and Ron had his first 'Fire Drill'. It was taken from a Muggle technique used in football or hockey or lacrosse; Ron knew there was a reason he thought Muggles were barmy, and this was one of them.

The entire Reserve team flew a few metres away from Ron, each with a Quaffle in his or her hands, and at the same time, they all tried to chuck the balls through the goals. Each time Ron caught one of the Quaffles, he had to throw it back into the mix of other Reserve players. After twenty-five minutes of this utter madness, the Captain finally called a halt. Ron had caught most of the Quaffles, to his surprise.

Now, achy and tired, Ron pulled on an old Christmas jumper from his mum. Snapping his bag shut, he tossed his practise robes into his locker and shut it.

'Nice practise.'

Ron turned. 'Thanks,' he said to Nathan MacDonald, the Reserve Captain.

'You're much better than you give yourself credit for.'

Ron felt the tips of his ears turn red. 'Er, thanks.'

'I know all about the players at Hogwarts, y'know. My sister keeps me updated.'

'Who's your sister?'

'Natalie MacDonald,' Nathan replied. 'She's a fifth-year. I was at a quite of few of the games in your sixth year. I was right impressed, to tell you the truth.'

'Thanks.' Ron's ears were on fire.

'Right,' said Nathan, digging into his pocket and producing a white envelope. 'Here.'

'What's this?' asked Ron, taking the envelope.

'Your pay check.'

Ron's eyes went wide. He'd completely forgotten that he was getting _paid_ for playing Quidditch. This was… wow. 'Thanks.'

'Stop saying that,' said Nathan with a laugh. 'Anyway, it's a small check in comparison to what you'd get if you were on the Official team instead of the Reserves. Still, I'd keep on top of things – keep in shape. You need to make sure you stay in top physical form. Marcus Hooper is beginning to look a bit tired, yeah? Rumours from the other Captain are that he's past his prime. He's almost forty, which is quite old for a Keeper these days. Keep your fingers crossed, mate, yeah? Your day on the regular team could come up sooner than expected.'

Ron swallowed against a lump in his throat. 'Right.'

'Oh, and we're taking you with us when we go to Ireland and Scotland next week.'

'What?'

'Pack your bags, we leave Thursday. It's jut for a week and a half. We're only taking the… better players, if you will, from the Reserve team with us, and the manager and I have talked it over, and you're one of the ones we're taking. Anyway, cheers.' Nathan left the tent, leaving a wide-eyed Ron in his wake.

XXXXXXX

Ron knocked on the door to the twins' flat in London. Before he would have just Apparated in, but now that Angelina was living there, Ron was afraid of walking in on something untoward. Shifting from one foot to the other, Ron waited impatiently for the door to open. When it finally did, he found himself staring face to face with a very tired-looking Angelina, her usually plaited hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail.

'Your brothers are both at the shop,' she said.

'Er, actually… I wanted to talk to you,' replied Ron, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

'Me? Why?'

'Why not?'

Angelina narrowed her eyes, but stepped away from the door so Ron could enter the flat. 'Your ears are red.'

'I know,' grumbled Ron.

Angelina flopped down on the couch, bringing her knees up against her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Resting her chin on her right knee, she raised her eyebrows at Ron.

He sat down at the other end of the sofa and sighed. 'Ginny left for school today.'

'Ah, I guess it is the first, isn't it?'

'Yeah. So I can't exactly ask her about this.'

'Right. About what?'

Ron swallowed. He didn't know why he should feel so nervous. Well, yes he did. He was about to ask Angelina a very heavy question.

'Ron. I've known you since you were a titchy first-year. You can talk to me. I'm family now, I suppose, as well.'

With a nod, Ron wet his lips and spoke. 'I just got my first pay check for Quidditch and I got a Gringotts account. And it's more money than I know what to do with, really, and my Captain told me that there's a good chance I could be put on the regular team sometime soon, which means _more_ money. And, well, what do I know about money, yeah?'

Angelina nodded. 'Right. What's your question?'

'Now that money's not really an… obstacle… I want to buy…'

A smile spread across Angelina's face. 'Buy what? Something for Hermione, I'm guessing? Which is why you're asking me – because I'm a girl?'

'Something like that,' mumbled Ron. 'It's just that her birthday is in a couple of weeks and I wanted to get something before then. I know _what_ I want to buy, but I'm rubbish when it comes to gifts and things.'

'All right, then. I'll be happy to help out. What did you have in mind? Hopefully not a book!'

Ron shook his head. 'No, no, nothing like that…'

'Jewellery, then?'

Ron blushed.

'Oh my god,' said Angelina, 'are you thinking of getting her a ring?'

Ron's entire face resembled a very ripe tomato. 'Something like that,' he mumbled again.

'Well, I don't know Hermione very well,' said Angelina. 'But I can help you out, I'm sure. We can go to Diagon Alley sometime this week?'

Ron nodded. 'Yeah. Thanks.' His shoulders suddenly felt less heavy. 'Is it hard?'

'Is what hard?'

'Being married?'

'That's a silly question,' replied Angelina. 'Didn't you live with Hermione last year at Lupin's house? Certainly you know what it's like to live with her.'

'Yeah, but that was different. We were there for a purpose and half the time I didn't even see Hermione because she was looking up spells and potions and things to help Harry fight You-Know-Who. Plus, she had her own bedroom to go to, and there were other people in the house. Besides, that wasn't forever. _This_ would be until one of us dies and Hermione is too stubborn to do that first so I'd be stuck with her.' Ron said it sardonically, and noted Angelina's smile.

'Very true, but you're stubborn as well.' She swallowed and looked thoughtful. 'The thing about being married to Fred is that I have to understand his bond with George. That's why I'm here, really. I don't want to live here. In fact, I hate it, but don't tell either of them that. Their relationship was getting really rocky because George thought Fred was abandoning him and all this rot. So, I compromised and said we could live here with cheaper rent so we could save up money to buy a house one day.

'But it's not just the saved rent,' continued Angelina, 'it's also how I stay clear of Fred and George's "inventing" time. It's hard, but I do it because I know it's what Fred needs. But he does a lot of things for me I know he doesn't want to do.'

'Like what?'

'Like… I'm a morning person. I wake up around sunrise, even on the weekends. Fred sleeps late, but he'll wake up at dawn, make me coffee and wait for the owl with the _Daily Prophet_, then bring them to me. He'll go back to sleep, of course, but it's the thought that matters.'

'Right.'

'Look, the point is, we've been married for over a month, and already it isn't _easy_, but it's not hard, either. We make it work because we want to. We have to compromise and do things we don't want to do, but in the end it's worth it.'

'Right,' Ron said again.

'And if you and Hermione were going to break-up, you would've done it about a thousand rows ago. You two'll be _fine_.'

'I guess I just need reassurance, really. I mean, she's right mental, that one, isn't she? I suppose that makes me mental as well.'

Angelina shrugged. 'Do you want to get married now?'

'Well, not today, but I don't really see the point in putting it off. Mum and Dad were young, and you and Fred were young – _are_ young. And, like my dad said, when you know, you know. And I just know Hermione is right.'

Angelina smiled. 'Well, Ron, I think I'd love to help you pick something out for her. Let's go tomorrow. You've got me excited about this as well, now.'

'Cool. Just, uh, do me a favour?'

'What's that?'

'Don't tell Fred – or George. They've taken the mickey outta me enough times in the last eighteen years. I don't want it to be taken out on me again for this.'

XXXXXXX

'So your boyfriend's the new Defence teacher.'

Ginny looked up from her book. She was curled up on the sofa in front of the fireplace in the common room, having sufficiently stuffed herself at the feast a few hours before.

'Shut up, Vicky,' snapped Ginny. 'He's not my boyfriend.'

Dark-haired Victoria Frobisher smiled. 'He was last year.'

'Well, he's not this year.'

'Why not?'

Ginny blinked. Why not? 'That's none of your business.'

Vicky's smile widened.

'Oh, fine! He's a _professor_. We _can't_ date. McGonagall said so. Plus, he's Head of Gryffindor now that McGonagall's the Headmistress. Those are two big reasons we can't date. We weren't right for each other anyway.'

Vicky snorted. 'Right.'

'Why don't you just shut up and leave her alone?' barked a voice from behind Ginny. She turned to see Colin, his eyes narrowing at Vicky. 'I don't see _you_ dating anyone.'

Vicky rolled her eyes, but turned around and left.

'Thanks,' Ginny said to Colin quietly.

'No problem.' He sat down next to her on the sofa. 'Stebbins asked me about you tonight after the feast.'

Ginny arched an eyebrow. 'Oh? What'd he say?'

'He wanted to know if you were still with Harry. Then, he wanted to know if you liked Hufflepuffs since he's in Hufflepuff.'

'What'd you tell him?'

'I told him that you owled me over the summer and so I knew you weren't with Harry, but I don't know anything about your interests otherwise.'

Ginny nodded. That was a good response. Did she even have other interests? No. But that didn't mean she _couldn't_.

'You can tell Stebbins that Hufflepuff is a fine house, but I need more than that to impress me.'

Colin seemed to be struggling against a smile. 'Right. I can tell him that, sure.'

'Right. Thanks.'

'He's fancied you on and off for a while, y'know. But first you were with Michael, and when you broke up with Michael, Stebbins was with Lisa Turpin, and then they broke up, but you were with Dean, then immediately with Harry. Now, you're both single at the same time so he wants to jump on that chance.'

'Really?'

Colin nodded. 'Although, I wasn't supposed to actually tell you all that. I was just supposed to find out whether or not you were with anyone else, and stuff like that. But I'm not very good at subtlety.'

'That's all right. I won't tell him.' Ginny closed her book. 'I'm going up to bed. I'll see you at breakfast.'

Ginny gave Colin a smile before retreating up the stairs to the seventh-year girls' dormitory. She changed into her pyjamas and climbed into bed, pulling the curtains shut. She lay on her back, staring blankly above her.

Stebbins… She didn't even know his first name. Everyone called him Stebbins. He was a seventh-year Hufflepuff… blonde hair… brown eyes… tall… much too tall for her, really. Ginny smiled. First day and already someone was asking about her, already someone was interested in her. Stebbins wasn't brilliant looking, but he was cute, _and_ he was really muscular. But that was because he was Muggle-born and went to the gym – or at least, that's what Ginny had heard, even though she wasn't exactly sure what a 'gym' was or why it would make your arms expand to twice their size over a single summer.

Sighing, Ginny turned on her side. It was definitely going to be an interesting new year. She closed her eyes and tried to force herself to think about Stebbins, but an annoying imagine of a boy with glasses hiding vivid green eyes kept invading her thoughts.

XXXXXXX

Hermione rubbed her eyes the following Tuesday night. With umpteen books surrounding her, she was beginning to get a headache. She needed to go to bed. Stacking the books carefully, she levitated them from the kitchen, up the stairs, and into her bedroom. She sat them all on the floor next to her desk. Her eyes strayed to her desktop. Sitting there, on top of all her other pieces of parchment, was an application. Not for another job or anything, but for a flat. A very _exclusive_ flat.

The building was in the heart of Muggle London, where Hermione shopped with her mother for clothes, books, and toys when she was little. The building was maintained by an old, saucy witch, who only leased out the flats to witches and wizards. She didn't want anyone too messy, too old, too loud, or too nosy. All of her tenants had to be young, with decent jobs, and had to pay their rent and mind their own business.

'If you're going to be noisy, you best put up a good Silencing Charm!' she had told Hermione.

Now, Hermione looked at the application. She felt as though she _needed_ to move out of The Burrow. She felt guilty living there, eating the Weasleys' food, drinking their pumpkin juice and Butterbeer, and never paying a single Sickle for any of it. Plus, after living there all of July and August, Hermione felt even guiltier knowing what she and Ron did, late at night. Granted, it had only been a rare few times, but she knew she'd feel a lot better if Mrs Weasley never found out she was having sex with her son under The Burrow's roof.

Hermione jumped at the sound of a knock at her door. She opened it up, knowing Ron was going to be on the other side. Ron… She hadn't told him yet about wanting to move, even though she was planning on giving the application to that old witch the very next day.

'Hi. I'm tired, not tonight.'

Ron's ears turned red. 'No, that's not why I'm here. Besides, my parents are still up!'

'Oh. What's up, then?'

Ron shifted his weight to his other foot, shoving his hands into his pockets – he'd been doing that a lot the past couple of days, Hermione noted. She wondered what was so fascinating in his pockets. Probably lots of lint, if she knew Ron.

'My Captain and the Captain of the regular team are taking me with them when the team goes and plays Ireland and Scotland this weekend and next week. I'll be gone for a week and a half and I'm leaving on Thursday.'

'All right. Is that all?'

Ron nodded. 'They told me on Sunday.'

'Why'd it take you three days to tell me, then?'

Ron shrugged. 'I didn't want to jinx it, I suppose. I'm still in shock. They're telling me that I might be bumped up to the National Team… not just the National _Reserve_ Team.'

Hermione broke out into a wide smile. 'Why, that's fantastic! Isn't it?' Her smiled faded into a frown. 'Why do you look so upset?'

'I dunno. I'm just worried that if I play for the real team that it'll be like fifth year all over again.'

'Oh, stop. You haven't played like that since the last game fifth year. You'll be brilliant, I know you will. I just wish I could go and watch you.'

'Well, I probably won't be playing these two games.'

'Does the Reserve team normally stay in England while the National team goes all over the world for matches?'

Ron nodded. 'If a Chaser falls and can't finish the game, the team plays one player down. But I'm going to… observe how a "real" game is played.'

'Well, you'll do great. I know you will.'

'Yeah. I'll be glad to get home and see you, though. I've seen you every single day for over a year.'

Hermione smiled awkwardly. 'Well, you'll see me, but I don't think I'll be at The Burrow.'

'What? Why not?'

'Er, because I've decided it's time I move out and get my own flat. I can't live here for free forever.'

'Who are you going to live with?'

'No one. Just myself.'

Ron frowned. 'But there's Death Eaters still out there.'

'I have a wand. I was Head Girl. I can defend myself.'

'I know, but…'

Hermione sensed what Ron was thinking. 'You can't live with me.'

Ron's frown deepened. 'Why not?'

'Because! Your mother would have a fit. Absolutely not. No.'

'Ah, come on—'

'I said no,' stated Hermione firmly. 'I don't want to live with anyone until I'm married, and that's that.'

'But it's not like we've never done anything that's not _supposed_ to be reserved for marriage.'

'Just because we've slept together doesn't mean we can live together. Ron, look, I love you – I tell you that a lot, I know – but I need my flat to be _mine_… alone. That doesn't mean you can't come over, though.'

'When are you moving?'

'Well, I'm giving my application tomorrow, and I expect to move in sometime next week. It'll be good for me. I can work on my research without an interruptions and I won't have to worry about your mum walking in on us.'

'We hardly do _that_ as it is.'

'Well, I'm sure we can do it more when your parents aren't two floors below.'

Ron smiled. 'Yeah?'

'Sometimes.'

'Only sometimes?'

'If you're good.'

'I can be good.'

Hermione smiled and gave Ron a small hug.

'I just don't like the idea of you being far away.'

'It's London. It's not _that_ far away. You can Apparate there.'

Ron shrugged. 'I know, but I lost Harry… and Ginny's at school…'

'You're not going to lose me, Ron. Never.'

'Well, I worry because you're at the Ministry and I've heard the rumours about what's going on there. That people've gone missing.'

Hermione nodded. It was true. She and Mr Weasley had lunch several times each week and often discussed who went missing and who was sacked – the number of personnel kept rising. No one from the Department of Mysteries had gone yet, so Hermione felt a bit better about working at the Ministry, but that didn't mean she still wasn't nervous every time she walked into another Department and found an empty desk. Things were amiss… everyone knew that. Of course, Hermione vowed that once she was finished with her research she was going to start looking into _why_ people were disappearing and why no one seemed to be doing anything about it, especially the Minister of Magic. If anyone should be questioning the disappearances of Ministry personnel, it should be the Minister.

'I'm sure I'll be fine,' replied Hermione. 'Don't worry so much. Nothing's going to happen to me.'

Hermione wasn't positive, but she was fairly sure that as Ron kissed her good-night and left, he didn't look entirely convinced.

XXXXXXX

Mulciber had once again called Hermione into his office. She sat in the chair across from his desk and waited for him to initiate the conversation. She had just finished her research – able to do a lot of it at The Burrow since Ron had been gone for a couple of days and not around to interrupt her.

'Wonder why I called you in here again?'

'Yes.'

'You finished your research.'

Hermione nodded. 'Just now. Just today.'

'Well, tell me!'

'Sir, I have the feeling that you already know what I've found.'

Mulciber nodded. 'I do. Well, I sort of do. One of the Seers told me, but I needed someone else to research what they Saw. Make sense? Yes, so while I believe my Seers, they don't always See everything. They See portions of things, and I need the whole story, the whole shebang, if you get what I mean.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Stop with this "sir" nonsense, what have I told you. I was named after the inventor of the Dungbomb, for Merlin's sake. I am no "sir".'

'You're still my boss, even if you are a bit unconventional.'

'Nice word. I've never heard that one before. Still… Go on, tell me. What'd you find?'

Hermione sighed. 'I've found that taking a man's soul and taking his essence are two entirely different things.'

'Go on.'

'In the potion I made, I killed Voldemort's soul. I destroyed it so that he wouldn't be able to invade another body and regain power. He's gone and he can't come back. Unfortunately, I didn't research thoroughly enough. If I had, I would have found that when a soul leaves a body it etches pieces of itself… it… oh, how can I explain this? Everyone has an essence, be it good or bad. I'd like to think of myself as having a good essence. When I die, my body will go and my soul will go. When my soul leaves, part of the goodness in it will fill someone up… it will enter someone and they will be just a bit more good themselves, because of my essence. If I was evil, though, then that person would be more, well, bad.'

'Who is "that person"?'

'Is this the part that the Seer didn't tell you?'

Mulciber nodded. 'Like I said, they don't Know or See everything.'

'Well, at first I thought that it meant whoever was closest to the dying person would get part of their essence, but when I researched further, I found that it's really whoever is closest and most susceptible. Harry was closest to Voldemort when he died, but Harry's good so Voldemort's essence wouldn't have entered him. It would have entered whoever was easily influenced by evil.'

'Do you know who that is?'

'Well, no.'

Mulciber narrowed his eyes. 'Are you sure?'

'No.'

Mulciber laughed. 'That's what I thought. Tell me this, Granger, how evil was Voldemort's essence?'

Hermione blanched. 'If his essence entered one of his Death Eaters… then I suspect they'll turn into someone just as evil and just as terrible as Voldemort himself was. Only, no one is expecting anything because no one knows what I just told you. Whoever got his essence should be feared and should be brought down before they have a chance to rise into power.'

'That's what I was afraid of.' Mulciber rubbed his eyes. 'This isn't good. No, not at all. What should we do? Find out who has the essence. Tell me who you think it is. I know you have a theory. You're too thorough not to have a theory.'

'If I was truly thorough none of this would be happening. It's my fault that there's someone out there with the potential to be evil like Voldemort—'

'I don't like self-pity. It's unbecoming. You're brilliant. Everyone knows you're brilliant. Shut it, and tell me who you think it is!'

'I think that it's odd there are so many people from the Ministry gone missing and no one talks about it.'

'Forty-two.'

'What?'

'There are forty-two workers gone missing. Keep talking, Hermione.'

'Oh, right. Er, well, anyone who _does_ talk about it is sacked. Forty-two is quite a lot of missing personnel, if you ask me. And I wonder if McDougal isn't behind it. Because one would think that if forty-two Ministry personnel went missing that the Minister of Magic would want some answers, but he seems to be sitting idle, doing nothing about it. Plus, I've heard rumours that he's a former Death Eater.'

'But was he there when Voldemort went down? I thought that the Order of the Phoenix caught all of the Death Eaters that were at the house?'

Hermione shrugged. 'Are we certain? Do we _know_ they were all caught? There were several Death Eaters that _weren't_ at the house, so there's no way to know if we got all the ones at Malfoy Mansion. All we can do is assume.'

Mulciber sat back in his chair, tapping the tips of his fingers against the arms. 'I think you're right,' he said with a sigh. 'I've been thinking this myself for quite a while, actually. Something is definitely not right with the Minister. Did you know I've never actually _seen_ him? Makes himself sparse, that one. It worries me, y'know. Do you know Occlumency?'

'What? Why?'

'Because now that you have this information I think you could be in danger. You need to make sure no one can read your mind, or your thoughts. You have to be careful. What I need you to do now is try to find out how to get rid of Voldemort's essence.'

'I already looked—'

'Look harder. And meanwhile, try to find out everything you can about the Killing Curse and how to deflect it.'

'You can't.'

'You can. I have no idea how, of course,' said Mulciber bitterly, 'and nor do my Seers. They Know it can be deflected.' Mulciber rolled his eyes. 'This is why I don't like Seers. What's the point of Knowing if you don't Know everything?' He sighed. 'Still. Anyway, have a good weekend, yeah? Come in on Monday ready to work!'

Hermione nodded. 'Of course.' She stood up and left his office. As she Apparated back to The Burrow, Hermione couldn't help but think that forty-two people were missing because she thought herself too brilliant to research thoroughly. If only she'd opened a few more books and found out about essences, then there wouldn't be a Death Eater just waiting to become the next Voldemort. Why was she so stupid? Why couldn't she have been more thorough?

This was all her fault.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued…

XXXXXXX


	5. Dinner Dates and Perfection

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Five: Dinner Dates and Perfection**

XXXXXXX

Ginny left her first Double Defence class on Friday feeling rather odd. Harry never called on her during class, and avoided her eyes when he picked up the summer essays from his students. Part of her thought she should probably feel grateful, because she didn't know how in the name of Merlin she was going to be able to keep it together if she had to look into those vivid green spheres.

'Hey, wait up!' Colin called from behind her.

Ginny slowed her steps and waited for the shorter boy to catch up with her.

'You're still planning on being on the Quidditch team again, aren't you?' he asked.

Ginny shrugged. 'I suppose so. Why?'

'Stebbins just made the Hufflepuff team. They had their try-outs last night. He's a Chaser.'

'A Chaser? Cool.' And Ginny meant it. She'd had a conversation with Stebbins once since Colin cornered her about him after the feast. And by conversation, she asked him before their Herbology lesson if he'd been able to finish that awful essay for Sprout, and he had replied. His face was smoothly curved and blissfully scar-less. 'Did he tell you to tell me that?'

Colin blushed. 'No. It's just something you have in common.' Colin stopped at the bottom of the staircase. 'You aren't going to the Great Hall?'

'I was going to drop my books off in the common room before dinner.'

'Oh.'

'Save me a place?'

Colin nodded. 'Sure. See ya.'

Ginny took the stairs from the first floor, where the Defence room was, to the seventh floor, where Gryffindor Tower was. She dropped off her books on one of the tables and was almost out of the portrait hole when she noticed out of the corner of her eye, Pig jumping around on one of the comfy armchairs near the fireplace.

'Whatta ya got there, Pig?' asked Ginny, reaching for the small owl. She took the parchment that had been haphazardly tied to his leg, and looked at it. It was just a note from Ron. Quidditch… Scotland… Rings… De-gnoming the gard – wait, _what_? Rings?

'Shite,' breathed Ginny. Ron's going to propose to Hermione. _Shite_.

Suddenly feeling much lighter, Ginny left the common room and went down the staircases until she reached the ground floor. She sat down next to Colin in the Great Hall, smiling and waving a small hello to Rebecca at the Slytherin table across the Hall.

'You look happy all of a sudden,' noted Colin.

Ginny nodded. 'It's supposed to be a secret, but I'll tell you anyway. My brother just wrote me asking my opinion on a ring he bought for his girlfriend. I didn't see it, but he described it anyway.'

'Oh.' Colin's eyes danced over his plate; he looked confused.

'Ron.'

Colin's eyes lifted to Ginny's. '_Oh_. So, he's going to ask Hermione to marry him, then, is he?' When Ginny nodded, Colin said, 'Brilliant. They always were in love with each other. When I was a second-year they had some blasted fight over a rat or something and nearly scared me to death with their yelling.'

'Oh, they still bicker, but it's the making-up part that's different. They do that a lot faster now. Anyway, Hermione's always been a part of the family, really, and now it'll be official, so I think it's brilliant as well. They _do _get on my nerves sometimes, when they're all lovey-dovey, I mean. Still…'

'What's it look like?'

'What's what look like?'

'The ring,' clarified Colin.

'Oh.' Ginny blushed. 'It sounds like a Muggle ring. Gold with a white diamond, which is cut in a circular cut. He said he's going to get it enchanted, but that's expensive, really.'

'Enchanted to do what?'

'He didn't say. But isn't this exciting?'

'You'll have to tell Harry,' said Colin. He must have realised it was the wrong thing to say because he immediately froze and clamped his mouth shut. 'Er, sorry.'

'That's all right. I suppose Harry might like to know, though. Stupid git, my brother is. Harry wants to talk to him, but Ron's giving him the silent treatment. Seems a bit hypocritical not to talk to the same person who ignored you for a month. Oh, well.'

Ginny and Colin both finished their dinner in silence after that. Ginny stole a couple of glances at Colin. He was so changed since he was a first-year. He still had that camera and was always off taking pictures of anyone who would strike a pose for him. His obsession with the Boy Who Lived had died down, although his admiration for Harry Potter was still very much alive and apparent. Ginny suspected Colin might have had a thing for her at one point in time, but they were in the same year and the same house and took all of the same classes – it was hard to be around someone practically all day for seven days a week, ten months a year, and not grow close to them. And Ginny was much more in tune with boys (she blamed this on having six brothers) and didn't really like any of the girls in her year, so naturally she and Colin would be close.

'I'll see you back in the common room,' Ginny told Colin, as she got up from the table.

'Not going to have pudding?' asked Colin, shoving a spoonful of chocolate mousse in his mouth.

'No, chocolate was my brother's favourite, not mine. Cheers.'

Ginny loosened her red and gold tie as she slipped through the doors of the Great Hall. Coming up from a side staircase, Ginny noticed the blonde head of none other than Stebbins the Hufflepuff.

'Hi,' he said, a smile creeping up over his face. He slowed his steps until he was standing right in front of Ginny. She had to tilt her head back to look up at him.

'Hi,' she said.

'Already finished with dinner?'

'Yeah. Roasted chicken, my favourite.'

'Yeah?'

Ginny nodded. Not wanting there to be any awkward silences, Ginny quickly launched into a new subject. 'Colin told me you made it onto the Quidditch team.'

Stebbins nodded. 'Yeah, brilliant, really. I didn't think I would make it. I don't fly at home, seeing as how my whole family is Muggle, but I guess I have a natural talent for it. I would've tried out before, but I didn't honestly think I'd make it.'

'You must be good, then. I can't wait to play Hufflepuff now. Just don't steal the Quaffle from me.'

Stebbins sniggered. 'Right, well, you're one of the best Chasers, yeah? So I don't know if I could, even if I tried.'

Ginny felt her ears turn red. Damn her Weasley ears!

'Ah, I made you blush. You're cute when you blush.'

Ginny knew she was only turning redder.

'Would you like to go into Hogsmeade with me? I know the first visit is three weeks away, but I didn't want someone else asking you before I had the chance.'

Ginny knew this was coming. She knew that at some point Stebbins was going to ask her out. And if not Stebbins, then some other boy. She was no longer with Harry and everyone knew it. It was only a matter of time before someone would try to take advantage of her new 'single' status. She just hadn't realised it would be so soon.

'Er…'

Stebbins looked as though someone just kicked him in the stomach. 'Sorry, perhaps I asked too soon.'

'No, no, I wasn't expecting – no, of course I'll go with you to Hogsmeade. I'd be honoured. Thanks for asking.'

Stebbins still looked unsure. 'No problem.'

'Don't look so worried! I'm happy you asked, honest.'

At this, Stebbins smiled. 'Good. Great. Dinner's almost over and I still haven't eaten. Maybe I'll see you sometime this weekend? We can go for a fly or something after our respective practises.'

Ginny nodded. 'Sure. That sounds lovely. I'm sure I'll see you at breakfast in the morning. We can chat more about it then.'

'Cool. Well, see ya.'

Ginny watched as Stebbins walked past her and into the Great Hall. Her fingers were still on her tie and she quickly yanked it off as she turned and began to walk towards the staircases. She stopped abruptly and swallowed a gasp.

Harry was standing on the second step, leaning against the rail with a dejected look on his face.

XXXXXXX

Ron was a tad disgruntled. He'd been home for four hours before Hermione Apparated into his room at The Burrow. He had had to entertain himself, which he was completely incapable of doing. He ended up writing to his sister, for reasons he wasn't entirely sure of, and then he decided to reread _Flying with the Cannons_. Hermione made her apologises for being late, but work was proving… difficult. She hadn't elaborated further.

That wasn't why he was disgruntled, though. No, he was slowly growing more agitated because he had to take the Knight Bus into London.

'You can't Apparate to a place you've never been before,' Hermione tried to tell him. 'You have to visualise the place and everything. You've never been to my flat. You'd surely end up in the wrong place, or worse, splinch yourself!'

So, they took the Knight Bus. This was _not_ Ron's favourite mode of transportation. It was dark outside, officially night, and Ron still hadn't been inside Hermione's flat.

'It's this one,' she said, stopping on the third floor of her building, in front of a door with a large, silver '4' on it. Taking out her wand, Hermione tapped the doorknob, whispering some word in some language Ron didn't understand, and the door clicked open.

'Finally,' said Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully and led Ron into the small foyer. She closed the front door only to open another door, this one to a closet. She hung up her coat and took Ron's hand.

'This is my lounge,' she said.

Ron's eyes immediately narrowed. The lounge was full of furniture – a blue sofa, a table, and a squashy chair that resembled the ones back in the Gryffindor common room. Off of the lounge was a dining room with a table and four chairs, and beyond that, Ron could see, was the kitchen. From the dining room was a hallway. Ron disentangled his fingers from Hermione's and walked down the hall. All of the doors were opened; one room had a desk full of papers and books piled on several bookshelves; another room had only a bed, but no other furniture; and the last room had a full bedroom suite. Ron made his way back to the lounge, noting another door in the hall that he had missed on his first walk down, but this room was uninteresting – it was just a toilet.

'How can you afford a flat this big? And you already got furniture.'

'My parents left me money,' said Hermione softly, 'when they died.'

Ron pursed his lips. He looked around the lounge again. All the furniture looked so… _nice_. He'd never seen furniture this nice before in his life, but, he supposed, that was because his family was poor.

'They must've been rich,' he said without thinking.

'Not especially so.'

'How much do you make?'

'Er…'

'How much, Hermione? Tell me.'

XXXXXXX

'Hi,' said Ginny. 'I didn't know you were standing there.'

Harry forced himself to look into her brown eyes. It was the first time he'd looked her in the eye all week. After three lessons with the seventh-year Gryffindors and Harry had yet to look at her or speak her name.

'Yeah. I didn't mean to listen.'

Ginny shrugged. 'It's all right, I suppose.'

'I guess you just can't resist us Quidditch players,' said Harry, trying to sound jovial, but knowing that he ended up sounding miserable instead.

'Harry…'

'Don't. I'm sorry; it's my fault you're going to Hogsmeade with someone else anyway.'

'Your fault? We'd be together if it wasn't for your job, but since you didn't make it into the Auror program I can't blame you for taking this job instead.'

Harry nodded. 'Right.' He walked down the last two steps and stopped directly in front of Ginny. 'How're my classes going?'

'Exactly like the DA. Brilliant.'

'Thanks. I don't want to assign a lot of work, but I know McGonagall will sack me if I don't give a few essays.'

'It'll be all right, just be sure to give me high marks,' said Ginny lightly.

Harry nodded. 'Sure.' He studied her face. She was his idea of perfection. 'Gin, can I ask you something?'

Ginny nodded.

'If I asked you to wait for me, what would you say?'

'Wait for you?'

'I don't want to watch you go to Hogsmeade with other blokes or fly around the pitch with some guy that isn't me. It's only ten months until the end of the year, and after that you'll no longer be my student. Will you wait for me? Until the end of the year, and then we can be like we were?'

Ginny looked as though she was considering this, but her thoughtful expression turned to one of anger.

'You expect me to give up my social life to make you feel better?'

'That's not what I—'

'You abandoned _me_, Harry, and I'm willing to forgive you for that, so we can go on as friends. I told you when you showed up in the joke shop that we could try to start up another friendship, but _damn_, Harry, how can you expect me to just _wait_ for you? After what you did to me? You hid in Hagrid's cabin until the end of term and then you didn't get on the train and _then_ you didn't write me. And you want me to _wait_ for you? No.'

'No?'

Ginny scoffed. 'We can be friends, but that's it. I'm not putting my life on hold for you. Not after how I was treated. For years you acted as though I didn't exist, and then once you realised I was more than just Ron's annoying little sister, you abandoned me.'

'I know. I'm sorry.'

'Stop apologising. I've forgiven you, and now I'd just like to forget, all right?'

Harry nodded.

'But I'm not cancelling my date with Stebbins. I need to get back to the common room. I have a couple of essays for Snape I'd like to get out of the way so my weekend is free.'

Ginny pushed past him and made her way up the stairs and out-of-sight. Harry stood there, alone, in the entrance hall.

He wanted to be with Ginny more than he'd ever wanted anything else, more than he even wanted Sirius back. The concept of love was a concept he had never been sure about. Having never been given real love before, the whole idea confused him, but seeing Ginny everyday in the Great Hall or in his class, he grew more and more attracted to her. He was slowly realising he was definitely in love with her, and probably never stopped, even when he was doubting his own emotions and holing himself away from all his friends at Lupin's.

The Dursleys had denied him love, pretending he didn't exist, or, on the rare occasions they acted as though they saw him, told him how much they hated him. That was how Harry felt now. He felt small. He felt alone. He felt depressed. And worst of all, he felt as though he deserved it.

XXXXXXX

'_Hello_?' snapped Ron. 'Are you listening to me?'

Hermione froze. She hadn't expected the question. She wanted to tell Ron how much she made; she really did. Unfortunately, she knew that it wasn't as much as he made. He was so thrilled with his first pay check from his Quidditch team that Hermione just couldn't tell him she made twice that… and she wasn't even playing professional Quidditch. She just had a small research job at the Ministry. She didn't think Ron's ego could take her being more monetarily successful than him. Although, she did suspect that if he was to be bumped up to the regular National team then he'd make loads more money, but until then…

'That's another part of my job I'm not allowed to discuss,' said Hermione. 'I wish I could tell you.'

Ron's frown deepened. 'D'you make more than I do?'

Hermione wet her lips.

'Well?'

'I don't know if I'm allowed to tell you that, but, er, no, no I don't.' It was a lie, but it was a lie for Ron's sake. 'I bought all the furniture with the money my parents left me.'

Ron's eyes left hers and settled on the window behind her. Hermione turned and saw a large brown owl hovering outside. She quickly ran to the window and undid the latch, allowing the bird to fly inside.

'I've seen that owl before.'

Hermione turned her back to Ron and made a production of trying to untie the envelope from its leg. He'd seen this owl plenty of times while they were still at Hogwarts, she knew, but she hoped he wouldn't remember whose owl this was. She opened the envelope quickly, scanning it before folding it up and tucking it the back pocket of her jeans.

'Just a note from the Ministry about work,' said Hermione, turning back around to face Ron.

Ron shook his head. 'No, it's not. It's from _him_, isn't it?'

'Harry wouldn't use a different bird. He has Hedwig,' said Hermione, hoping that was the 'him' Ron was referring to.

Quick as a flash, Ron reached behind Hermione and took the letter from her pocket.

'I meant Vicky.' Ron said it before he even looked at the letter. He didn't open it up, just held it out in front of him, forcing Hermione to look at it. 'What's it say?'

'Read it.'

'I don't want to read it. I didn't know you were still writing to him.'

'I wasn't.' This was not the way the night was supposed to be going. She hadn't seen Ron in almost two weeks. They were supposed to talk, kiss, hug… they weren't supposed to bicker.

'What's it say?'

Hermione lowered her eyes. 'He wants to have dinner. He's in town to interview for a job at the Ministry here and he wants to see me. To catch up.' Hermione lifted her eyes. 'I don't _have_ to go.'

'Do you want to?'

Hermione didn't answer.

'_Hermione_!'

'Well, it _would_ be nice to see him.'

Ron frowned. 'Right.'

'But I don't want to row with you over it, either.'

'I don't care if you go. Just don't lie to me about writing to him.'

'I wasn't lying,' insisted Hermione. 'I stopped writing to him a few months ago. I wasn't expecting this letter, I promise. Wait – you don't care if I go?'

'No, I _care_, but I can't stop you from being friends with him, either, now can I?'

Hermione shook her head. 'I suppose not. You're not going to get jealous?'

'I didn't say that. Let's not talk about this.'

Hermione was surprised. Perhaps Ron was getting more mature after all. She opened her mouth to respond, but Ron pulled her to him roughly.

XXXXXXX

It hit Hermione a few days later, as Ron slid off her knickers and dove his tongue between her thighs, that he was trying to make her late for her dinner with Viktor. He tried his hardest to seduce her, to make her cry out his name.

And she had been late. Horribly late, looking tousled and smelling like sex, but Viktor forgave her.

'I didn't mind that you vere being late. Don't vorry, Hair-my-on-knee.'

'Closer,' mumbled Hermione.

'I haff not seen you for too long.'

'It _has_ been a while, Viktor.'

His crudely chiselled features were dark, his eyebrows thick and black as ever, but he pulled out the chair for Hermione to sit down, and offered to buy a bottle of wine for them to share. His English had somewhat improved, but his accent was still ever-present.

'How is your boyfriend?' asked Viktor after the main course had been taken away and the waiter had brought them cheesecake to split.

'Ron is fine. He's playing professional Quidditch.'

'Is he still not liking me?'

'Oh. No, he's still jealous,' said Hermione truthfully. She tried to resist a smile. Ron was so jealous that he wanted her to show up to the restaurant looking dishevelled, and, well, thoroughly shagged. And, to Ron's credit, Hermione hadn't minded one bit. That was the terrible thing about Ron; he was able to make her completely forget herself. He'd slowly undressed her, sucking at the flesh just underneath her jawbone, and made love to her with his mouth before—

'Hair-my-on-knee? Vould you like the last bite?'

'Huh? Oh, no thanks, you can have it.' Hermione blushed.

'So, vhen I start the job at the British Ministry I am thinking I vill see you lots, yes?'

Hermione nodded. 'Yes, probably.'

'Ve vill still be friends, no?'

'Of course. Why wouldn't we be?'

Viktor shrugged. 'I am not knowing vhat to think about your boyfriend. I haff a girl in Bulgaria who is vanting to come to London vith me, so Ron doss not haff to vorry about my, er… intentions. That is vhat you say he vorries about, yes? My intentions for you?'

Hermione smiled and nodded. 'Yes, he doesn't understand how a boy and a girl can be friends without the boy wanting to do untoward things. It's because I'm the only girl Ron was ever good friends with and he fancied me. So, of course, he has this idea in his head that every boy I talk to fancies me. Thus, the jealousy.'

'But you are friends vith Harry? Ron is not jealous of him?'

Hermione shrugged. 'I don't know. I suppose my friendship with Harry is the exception. Don't worry, Viktor, Ron won't mind if we remain friends, especially once he knows you have a girlfriend of your own who is coming with you to London. I'm dying to meet her. She sounds lovely.'

'She _is_ vairy lovely,' said Viktor.

Hermione smiled and nodded. Ron _wouldn't_ be jealous if he knew Viktor had a girlfriend… would he? Now, what was she thinking of before? Ah, yes, Ron made love to her with his mouth before quickly undressing himself, his one hand diving into her hair and pulling her face towards his, his tongue invading her mouth. His other hand reached underneath her, towards her arse, and pulled her upwards so that he could slide inside of her and fill her more completely. Lovely – that's what Viktor had said his girlfriend was like and that's exactly what Ron had been like this evening. Lovely. The way his hips rocked into hers and the way—

'Do you vant me to valk you home?'

'Oh, that's all right, Viktor. I can Apparate there.'

'But I am not knowing the vay around London and I vould not mind the walk. It is not so cold here as it is near Durmstrang. I am liking the varmer veather, yes?'

'Yes,' said Hermione with a smile, 'it is much warmer here. When will you start to see snow in Bulgaria?'

'Sometime November, but in Kurdjali, my hometown, ve vill get the snow in December and January alvays. Ve shall valk you home now, yes?' Viktor stood up and walked to the other side of the table where Hermione sat. He offered her his arm and she stood as well, taking his arm. She let him led her out of the restaurant and down the street; her flat was less than a kilometre away.

'I vill be sending you an owl vhen I move to London next month and you and your Ron vill haff to come to my house and meet my girlfriend.'

'What's her name again?' asked Hermione.

'Irina Aleksandra,' answered Krum. 'She vill find vork here too. She vos finding vork in Lovetch, at Muggle school there.'

'Really? I didn't know she was a Muggle.'

'She is being born Muggle, yes?'

'You really don't act as though you went to Durmstrang. Your demeanour is much more like someone from Hogwarts.'

'Yes, I vos liking Hogvarts much better than school in Bulgaria.'

'This is my building,' said Hermione, stopping in front of a large building. 'Thank you for dinner, Viktor.'

'It vos my pleasure, Hair-my-on-knee.'

Hermione gave Viktor a hug before opening the door to the front entrance of her apartment building. Instead of walking up the stairs to the third floor, she Apparated into her lounge. Ron, who had promised to wait up for her, could be heard snoring from her bedroom. Hermione smiled and made her way down the hall.

She undressed quietly, pulling on a short-sleeved nightgown before climbing into bed next to Ron. She cuddled herself into his chest, his bare skin cold against her flushed cheeks. Her arms wrapped around his middle, her hands accidentally brushing the elastic band of his boxer shorts. Ron stirred.

'Hi,' he said with a sleepy slur.

'Hi.'

'How was dinner with Vicky?'

'Fine. His girlfriend is moving to London with him. He got the job at the Ministry.'

'Good for Vicky.' Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione and began to snore again.

Repressing a giggle, Hermione allowed herself to think back to what had been filling her head all during dinner. She'd last left off at Ron's hips thrusting into her, and that's what replayed in her head like a broken record until she fell asleep.

XXXXXXX

Hermione Apparated straight to The Burrow Saturday evening for dinner. She arrived in the back garden, smiling as Fred chucked gnomes away from the house as far as he could throw.

'What did you do to get on gnome duty?' asked Hermione.

A sweaty Fred threw one last gnome before wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. 'Pissed off Mum and Angelina.'

'Oh?'

'Fucking dirty little tossers, gnomes.'

'What'd you do, Fred?'

'Accidentally left one of our new inventions lying about.'

Hermione winced. 'I'm guessing it didn't just turn them into canaries?'

Fred shook his head. 'No. Made all their hair fall out. After an hour it comes back, though, so I dunno what they're on about.'

Hermione smiled. 'You probably shouldn't have done that.'

'I wanted _Ron_ to eat it. I didn't get to see him when he lost all his hair last year. And, you're right, I shouldn't have done it. I never want to see my wife bald _ever_ again. Her scalp is right funny looking, if you ask me.'

'You coming in for dinner, then?' asked Hermione, making her way towards the house.

'You go ahead. I better get a few more gnomes out of this garden or Mum'll have my head.'

Hermione nodded and walked into the house, using the back door into the kitchen.

'Hi, Ron,' she said to the redhead sitting down at the kitchen table. She placed a kiss on the top of his head. 'I know I'm early, I – what's wrong?'

Ron had turned around and looked up at Hermione with an expression of worry and anguish.

'Have you seen Mum?' he asked.

'No. I heard she lost all her hair, though.'

'That was hours ago,' said Ron. 'She got an official Ministry owl and went berserk, ranting and raving and all that rubbish. I dunno what it said, though,' Ron added with a shrug. 'She got the owl over two hours ago and Disapparated. Angelina finished making dinner, but none of us really want to eat without Mum.'

Hermione nodded, understanding. 'I'm sure she'll be back soon. It was probably something from the Order.'

'The Order? You think?'

'Well, they are still meeting sometimes to update the lists of newly-imprisoned Death Eaters.'

'Why aren't we part of the Order?' demanded Ron. 'We're of age and they're still not letting us in.'

'It's not that simple,' said Hermione. 'They're not actively doing anything. If another Dark Wizard rises then we'll join.' Hermione shut her eyes, knowing very well that it was a real possibility that she and Ron would have to join the Order to fend off another Dark Lord.

'That won't happen for a while.'

Hermione opened her eyes and swallowed.

'What's that look for? Do you know something?'

'Oh, Ron,' said Hermione miserably, 'there's something I need to tell you.'

Ron stood up. 'What? What's wrong?'

'I—'

_Crack_!

Hermione was interrupted by Mrs Weasley Apparating into the kitchen. The motherly woman's eyes were bloodshot and wet, her nose a bright red. She smacked her lips together as though her mouth was bone-dry.

'Mum, what's wrong?'

Mrs Weasley broke down and began to sob.

XXXXXXX

Ginny was having a surprisingly good time talking and laughing with Stebbins. They had decided to go on a fly after dinner, but the wind started to get a bit strong so they took shelter in the library, having a hushed conversation in the corner.

'Six brothers? Wow. None of them are going to kill me or anything, right?'

'Not for just talking to me, no. But if you tried anything too untoward I'm sure my brother Charlie wouldn't mind taking a swing at you.' Ginny smiled.

'Ginny!' cried Colin, rushing over to the table where Ginny sat with Stebbins. Pig was zooming around his head and pecking at his fingers. 'Get this owl away from me!'

Ginny stood up and tried to shush Colin so Madam Pince wouldn't chuck them all out of the library. She grabbed a hold of Pig and tore the parchment from his leg. Pig zoomed around Ginny's head before landing on her shoulder. She always was the only one who could keep that bird calm – or, well, somewhat calm.

'It's from Hermione.'

'Who?' asked Stebbins.

'Her brother's girlfriend,' answered Colin. 'What's it say that had that bloody bird all in a frenzy?' Colin stuck a bleeding finger in his mouth.

Ginny wet her lips and looked up at the two boys with watery eyes. 'She says my mother's too upset to write me herself. She says my father's gone missing.'

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued…

XXXXXXX


	6. Proposals and Tears

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Six:** **Proposals and Tears**

XXXXXXX

Ginny wasn't sure who to cry in front of. Her father was missing, number forty-three, according to Hermione, and no one knew where he was. He had received an official Ministry owl early that Saturday morning, but never showed up to work. Mrs Weasley saw him Disapparate from The Burrow, but he didn't show up at the Ministry's Apparition point. This called for some serious waterworks; Ginny loved her father.

'Excuse me,' said Ginny, 'I need to just… be alone.'

She left Colin and Stebbins in the library and walked through the corridors of the castle. The tears she held back were blinding and she wasn't sure where her feet were taking her until she realised she was standing in front of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

_Harry's somewhere on the other side of that door_, she thought. His office was behind the classroom, and Ginny assumed his quarters must be there as well.

She didn't know whether to knock, and she didn't know how long she stood there, but the decision of whether to stay was made for her; Harry opened the door.

'Er…'

He held up a tattered piece of parchment. Ginny blushed; it was the Marauders' Map.

'What's wrong?' he asked, studying her face.

'Dad's gone missing,' answered Ginny quietly. 'I probably shouldn't be here. I'll go.'

Harry reached out and grabbed her arm. 'No, wait. You don't have to.'

'McGonagall will be furious if she sees me here, and it's almost curfew.'

'It's all right, come on. We'll stay in the classroom.'

Ginny allowed Harry to take her into the classroom. She noted that he didn't close the door, probably in case anyone came by. Nothing wanton could happen with an open door.

'Tell me.'

'That's just it; I don't know anything. Hermione wrote to me and told me Dad was missing. Mum's thoroughly upset. It has something to do with the Ministry. Dad's the forty-third person to disappear since the beginning of summer.'

'I'm sure they'll find him.'

Ginny blinked back more tears. 'They haven't found anyone yet.' She looked up at Harry. 'I'm sorry, but I didn't want anyone else to see me cry.'

'It's all right. I don't mind.' Harry seemed unsure whether to touch her; his hand extended halfway to her.

Ginny put her hands over her face and let the tears flow.

XXXXXXX

Hermione let Ron stay at her flat. He spent the previous night and while she didn't want to make a habit out of him staying all the time, she couldn't deny him this time. His father was missing, and while Ron wasn't always in tune with his emotions, it was clear he was troubled.

He lay on his back on top of her pink duvet, hands behind his head. Hermione had changed into pyjamas and brushed her teeth, being sure not to forget to floss, and was now next to Ron, reading a book.

'More research?' asked Ron, not bothering to turn his head to look at her.

'No.' Hermione closed the book, using her finger to bookmark her page. 'It's a novel by a Muggle from the nineteenth century… and you don't care. I'm sorry.'

Ron shrugged. 'Just seems like shitty things always happen to my dad. Like in fifth year.'

'With the snake, yeah.' Hermione put the book on her bedside table and snuggled next to Ron. 'Ron, I have to tell you something, but you have to promise not to get upset.'

'Hermione, don't make me promise something like that.'

Hermione hesitated, but she told Ron about the essence of Voldemort. He listened quietly, his fingers running through Hermione's hair. She figured it was all right to tell him since she wasn't specifically telling him that it was what she was researching for work. After all, if the Order was to fight against another Dark wizard, then they'd have to know the details anyway.

'So,' said Hermione, once she was finished, 'you see it's all my fault. If I had just continued on with my research at the safe house—'

'Hermione, all you did was read and have Lupin deliver you books to his house from the library. I'm surprised you didn't go stark raving mad; you hardly slept or ate.'

'I know, but if I'd only thought to look up the consequences then there wouldn't be a potential Dark Lord trying to gain ranks and your father wouldn't be missing.'

'Maybe the missing people and this new Dark Wizard are unrelated.'

'Ron, don't be daft.' Hermione sighed. 'I just feel like it's all my fault.'

'You sound like Harry.'

'What? How?'

Ron shrugged. 'He blamed himself for Sirius' death, don't forget. Did nothing but brood and moan about his stupidity. No one could convince him it wasn't his fault. _You_ especially tried to convince him that he wasn't to blame, and now here you are, blaming yourself for something that isn't your fault.'

'But if I'd only been more _thorough_—'

'Would you stop it?' snapped Ron, sitting up. 'None of the rest of us would have figured out a way to stop You-Know-Who. _You_ are the one who did that. He'd still be alive if it wasn't for you. Or worse, really, Harry'd be dead and You-Know-Who would still be killing innocent people. Merlin, Hermione, don't you see how much _good_ you did?'

'But there are _forty-three_ people missing, Ron! How much good did I do if people are still dying?'

Ron shook his head. 'You don't know if there are still people dying. They're just missing. Don't say that they're dead.'

In those past few moments, Hermione had completely forgotten Ron's dad was one of the ones missing. Of _course_ Ron wouldn't want to hear about any of them dying; thinking that way only meant the worst for his father.

'I'm sorry,' she said.

'Besides, this former Death Eater isn't Voldemort, is he? He can't be as powerful as he was, right?'

'I don't know,' said Hermione quietly. 'He's already been able to invade the Ministry by being elected Minister. I don't know how that happened unless he used the Imperius Curse. If he had the potential to be as powerful as Voldemort, then he _will_ be as powerful – the essence would give him an extra boost, if you will.' Hermione buried her head in her hands. 'Oh, it's so hard to fully explain! And it _is_ my fault, even if you don't think so.'

'I understand about the essence… I think. Doesn't matter, I'm sure the Order will sort things out. And I'm going to join to help them. Travelling with the Quidditch team, I'm sure I'll be able to talk to foreign wizards and stuff that would want to help, yeah?'

Hermione nodded. 'Yeah. I want to help find your dad. I'll feel less guilty if I can find him. And the rest of them.'

Ron sighed. He kissed the top of Hermione's head before standing up and shoving his feet inside his trainers.

'Where are you going?' asked Hermione.

'Home.'

'You can stay here. I said I didn't mind.'

'Mum needs me there,' said Ron. 'Ginny's at school and I don't know if the twins are still there and I don't want Mum there by herself. She needs someone there for her. It's worse for her, y'know.'

Hermione nodded slowly. 'Good night, Ron.'

'Don't blame yourself too hard, and try to get some rest.'

Hermione nodded again. No one would be able to convince her that this wasn't her fault, and as Ron Disapparated, she solemnly swore to herself to find his father.

XXXXXXX

Ginny felt completely overwhelmed. Not only was she trying to decipher her feelings towards Harry and Stebbins without hurting either of them, she was inundated with work in her NEWT-level classes, and desperately trying not to lose it over the disappearance of her father. The only bit of good news she'd received was when Ron disclosed his plan to propose to Hermione… at some point. Ginny stopped writing home; every time she got an owl back, it only hard more disheartening news: her father was still missing.

'Ginny? Are yeh lis'enin'?' asked Hagrid.

Ginny's head snapped up. 'Er, sorry Hagrid.'

'It's ten points ter Gryffindor if yeh can tell us abou' a Diricawl.'

'Oh. Um.' Ginny's brow furrowed. 'They're birds and I know they're like phoenixes because they can disappear and reappear in a different place. Muggles called them Dodo birds, but since Muggles are mostly unaware of magic, they thought the bird died out, but it really just disappeared.'

'Very good, Ginny! Ten points ter Gryffindor. This here is a Diricawl. Gather roun'. Don' touch it, Colin! If it thinks it's in danger, it'll up an' disappear! The assignmen' is ter draw 'em like. Their anatomy i'n't like other bir's so be extra careful wit' 'em. If yeh get too close ter 'em wit' a quill tha's too sharp they'll up an' disappear on yeh, so yeh gots ter be careful! Bes' drawin' gets full marks an' twenty points ter yer house. But yeh can' finish yer drawin' if yer bir' vanishes so good luck ter yeh!'

Ginny barely heard the bell ring, but she made her way back to the castle with the rest of her classmates. Colin tried to catch her eye, but she tried her best to ignore him.

'What's wrong?' he asked as they stepped into the entrance hall and make their way to the staircase.

'Nothing.'

'How long has it been?'

'Almost two weeks,' answered Ginny, knowing full well that Colin was referring to the timeline of her father's disappearance.

'Well, Hermione's looking into it,' he said quietly, 'so I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. I bet all of those missing people from the Ministry are all together somewhere, and I'm sure they're fine.'

'I wish I had your optimism,' said Ginny rather dryly.

They entered the first-floor Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. As per usual, Ginny sat in the back, far away from Harry's prying eyes. Since her first breakdown a couple weeks ago, she'd crept to his office after curfew to unleash the tears. She knew it was unfair, but she felt so completely overwhelmed by everything, and she was much more confident at night to actually be alone with Harry. Perhaps the castle's darkness made her feel less exposed. During the day, she had to force herself not to look at Harry, especially in his eyes.

'I hope everyone worked on their shields and jinxes because we're going to duel today, and since it's Friday, if you get injured Madam Pomfrey can mend you up in time for class on Monday.' Harry took out some parchment and laid it on his desk. Using a rather old quill, he began to write. 'Pair up.'

Ginny paired up with Colin, knowing that she would have to go a bit easy on him and not throw him anything that would wind him up in the hospital wing. She just hoped Harry wouldn't notice her jinxes were rather harmless.

Glancing around the classroom, horrific realisation hit her. Between the seventh-year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, there were an odd number of students in the class, and Stebbins had just walked in late, leaving him without a partner. Judging by the look on Harry's face, he must have realised this as well.

'Colin,' Ginny whispered quickly, 'do you mind if I pair up with Stebbins? You'd have to duel Harry, but…'

Colin looked over to the Hufflepuff. 'Sure.' He gave Ginny a wink and hopped on over to the front of the classroom to duel Harry.

Ginny waved Stebbins over to her. She trusted Harry enough not to maim the boy she had a date to Hogsmeade with, but she didn't trust him enough to not go easy on him – and Harry was very powerful in Defence.

'Why're you late?' asked Ginny.

'I accidentally hit Flitwick with one of the Charms we were working on. I had to help him to the hospital wing.' Stebbins flashed her a smile. 'How're you doing? You haven't looked like yourself lately.'

Ginny shrugged. 'I'm all right, I suppose.'

'Anything you can tell me about?'

'Just my father,' said Ginny.

Stebbins glanced at the front of the classroom where the first duelling partners were throwing jinxes back and forth. 'But you can tell him, yeah?'

'Who? Colin?'

Stebbins shook his head. 'Harry.'

Ginny blushed. 'I don't know what you mean.'

'I saw you, when I was doing my prefect rounds, going into his office. You were crying.'

'It's not what you think.'

Stebbins shrugged. 'If the two of you have something going on still, please just tell me before I get too involved. I don't want to get hurt in all this, really.'

'It's not like that.'

'Then what's it like?'

Ginny swallowed. 'I'm really worried about my dad, and Harry's seen me cry before. He's probably seen the best and the worst sides of me, so I'm more comfortable crying in front of him. That, and he knew my father so he's worried as well.'

Stebbins nodded. 'So there's nothing going on between the two of you?'

'No, and it shouldn't be an issue either because he's a professor. That would be against the rules.'

'Right.'

Ginny studied Stebbins' face. 'Is that all?'

'I really fancy you, Ginny,' said Stebbins quietly. 'I think you're cute and funny and fun. I like being around you, but I don't think I can just be _friends_ with you, so if you're still attached to Harry, I'd like to know…'

'I'm not,' Ginny said quickly, not sure why she said it; part of her _was_ still attached to Harry, but part of her really liked Stebbins as well.

'All right.'

'But we ended things badly. If it wasn't my dad that had gone missing I wouldn't even be going to Harry for comfort. Still, I need to take things slow… for me.'

Stebbins nodded.

'I do like you, though.'

Stebbins smiled. 'Yeah?'

Ginny nodded. 'Yeah.'

'Good. I like you too.'

Ginny gave Stebbins' hand a reassuring squeeze before Harry called them to the front of the room to duel.

XXXXXXX

The next day was the nineteenth – Hermione's nineteenth birthday. Ron snuck into her flat, dragging Angelina along with him. He had the older girl help him make dinner for Hermione. He set a warming charm on the food while he waited for her to get home from the Ministry.

He busied himself by walking through her flat, looking at the pictures in her rooms, and noting that she had the picture he'd given her and the Blood Rose from the previous Valentine's Day next to her bed. He smiled at the thought that she saw them every night before she went to bed.

Once she arrived home, he gave her a kiss and a hug, and they ate dinner, drinking generous amounts of wizard wine. Afterwards, Ron carried her into her bedroom and made love to her.

'With all this travelling around, I don't get to do this nearly as much as I want to,' said Ron, draping an arm around Hermione's bare waist and pulling her closer so that her back was completely flush to his front. He let his hand drift upwards and cup her just underneath her breast. He kissed her neck and rested his lips there.

'But you're having fun, right? You like playing for the National Team, yeah?'

'Yeah, of course I am. Doesn't mean I don't miss you like hell.' Ron sighed into her skin. He kissed her neck again and let his hand drift from her breast to between her legs. He lifted her top leg up just a bit and slid inside her from behind. He found a slow rhythm, taking special note of each of Hermione's reactions; it was her birthday after all, so there was no reason to go fast; he wanted it to be good for her. It was hot this way, the way he could cup her and run his hands along her stomach.

Hermione's eyes rolled up into the back of her head when they finished. Her breath came in deep pants. Ron couldn't help but feel good about himself that he could pull this sort of reaction from her. Happy birthday indeed.

'Ron?' Hermione said a little while later.

'Hmm?'

'When you found those letters from Harry, what were you really looking for?'

Ron stiffened. 'What?'

'I don't think you were rummaging through my things so you could find something incriminating. Were you looking for my diary? I kept it and the letters in the same drawer.'

'Er…'

'I'm not going to get angry. I just want to know.'

'Perhaps. Maybe. Yes.'

'Yes? How come?' Hermione turned around. 'Anything you want to know about me you can just ask. I'll tell you. Were you looking for entries about Viktor or something?'

'No, not exactly, but now that you mention him, how is Vicky?'

'Ron,' said Hermione sternly, with a warning tone.

'Sorry, sorry.'

'So, what were you looking for?'

'Stuff about me.' Ron reached out and ran his finger along the paper ring on Hermione's finger. 'I was just wondering what kinds of things you wrote about.'

'About you?'

Ron nodded. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply, embarrassed for admitting that. His head only lifted when he felt Hermione move next to him. She was sitting up and walking, blissfully naked with skin shiny from sweat, towards her desk. She came back with a book in her hands and handed it to Ron.

'Here. You were looking for it on the day of Fred's wedding. It's in the back. I don't write in it every day so it should be easy to find.'

'What…'

'You wanted to know what I write about you, so there you are.'

Ron swallowed. _Is this a test? Do I fail if I read it? Do I fail if I refuse?_

'Just read it, I don't mind,' said Hermione, sliding underneath the covers and propping herself up on an elbow, the hand supporting her head lost in the mass of hair.

Ron swallowed again and opened up the diary. He looked in the back, but all the pages were blank. He flipped through until he found pages with writing on them, and then found the day of Fred and Angelina's wedding.

_If I lift my head up just a bit I can see Charlie and Bill arranging the chairs for Fred's wedding. None of us thought he'd get married before Percy, but Percy is full of surprises, I suppose. I love this family but part of me feels separated from them. I'm not related to anyone, even though they've given me a room and feed me every meal. I feel indebted to them, even though I know there is nothing with any monetary value I can give them in return – even all my gold in Gringotts wouldn't amount to the gratitude I have for them._

_Especially Ron. We almost had another one of our rows this morning when he insisted on belittling the house elves. I think our row pattern is back to the healthy four times a week. Every time it happens, though, I sit furious for a few moments before just wishing we could make up. We don't hold grudges anymore – especially not like in third year when both of us refused to apologise for the awful Crookshanks / Scabbers incident (or lack thereof one could say)._

_The wedding makes me tear up. Not because I'm an emotional girl, but because when I get married my parents won't be there. I can't imagine marrying anyone other than Ron. Even through our rows he takes care of me. I think I take care of him as well. The thought of ever not being with him makes it feel as though someone has a hold of my heart and is squeezing the life out of it. The thought physically hurts. _

I know I've never been one to write emotional things in this diary. I've always just kept it as a written memento of everything that has happened so I'll never forget. Still, today, with the first non-Muggle wedding I've ever been to going on, I can't help but think about Ron. All he has to do is look at me and I feel deliriously happy. It's hopeless.

Ron stopped reading. He closed the book. 'I'm sorry,' he said.

'For what?'

'I don't know. Doubting that you… y'know, loved me.'

Hermione took the book from Ron and set it behind her on the bedside table. While she did this, Ron took the opportunity to reach quickly into his trousers, which were on the floor right beside the bed, and pull out the ring he kept hidden there. He quickly shoved it under his pillow before Hermione turned back around.

'Of course I love you. I'd be mad to stay with you if I didn't.' Hermione nestled back down under the covers, turning her back to Ron. 'Hold me,' she whispered. 'I like it when you do.'

Ron pulled her to him and hugged his arms around her. His hands instinctively ran slowly up and down her stomach, tracing invisible circles. He reached back up to her hand to remove the paper ring.

'What're you doing?'

'Taking this thing off. I'm tired of looking at it.'

'Ron! Don't. Please.'

Ron ignored her. He took the ring off and tossed it on the bedside table. From under his pillow, he took out the real ring he bought and spread out Hermione's fingers. He slipped it on, the ring moulding magically to her finger as he did so. He heard Hermione let out a small gasp.

'This one looks better.'

Hermione turned her head to look at him, the rest of her body still against him.

'I was thinking of some cheesy way to ask, but none of the ways seemed like you. This is the best way. I don't think you ever look as beautiful as you do when you're sated and ready for sleep. Your skin kind of shines and that stuff you put on your face is gone.'

'Concealer,' whispered Hermione. 'Just for the rare times I have a blemish.'

'Whatever. This is when I love you most. Not right after sex, I mean when I can just look at you and hold you with no barriers between us. I think this is the best way,' Ron said again, 'to ask you to marry me.'

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued…

XXXXXXX


	7. Acceptance and Unexpected Visits

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Seven: Acceptance and Unexpected Visits**

XXXXXXX

Hermione felt numb. This was not the birthday present she'd been expecting.

'Ron,' she said sternly, 'I thought you were going to save up for a flat?'

'I don't mind living at The Burrow for a bit longer, really. Besides how could I live by myself? I can't even cook.'

Hermione couldn't repress the smile that was tugging on her lips. 'So that's why you want to get married – so someone can make you meals.'

Ron smiled as well. 'You know that's not it.'

'It's a beautiful ring. Does it do anything?'

'Do..?'

'Did you get it enchanted?'

Ron nodded. 'Oh, yes. It'll turn blue whenever I'm thinking about you, because I know blue is one of your favourite colours. And I got the actual ring to look like those Muggle engagement rings since you're Muggle-born.'

Hermione looked down at the ring and suddenly felt very sombre. 'You don't think we're too young?'

'No. When you know, you know.'

Hermione nodded, understanding. 'I just want you to be sure you know what you'll be getting yourself into. If we get married you can't leave your dirty laundry laying about, and my bedroom will _not_ be full of orange Chudley Cannons paraphernalia.'

Ron nodded. 'Of course not. But I'm not sleeping in a room that's a bloody library, either.'

Hermione blushed. 'All right, then. Deal.'

'Good.' Ron kissed her neck again. 'It's not as though we have to get married right away, either, y'know.'

'I know.'

'Wait, you never actually said yes... or no.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'For heaven's sake, Ron, why would I say no?'

'I dunno.'

'Of _course_, yes!'

XXXXXXX

The Weasley clan, minus Ginny and Arthur, were getting together for Sunday supper. Ron left Hermione's flat early that morning, having stayed the whole night with her, loving her and celebrating not only her birthday, but the fact that they were now engaged as well.

Ron peeled potatoes the Muggle way, his mother insisting that this way was the best. Ron picked up the peeler, muttering, 'Right mental way, if you ask me.' Still, he peeled for what seemed like hours (although was more like twenty minutes), watching as his brothers Apparated in from all over Europe to stay for an Order meeting early the next morning. Charlie came alone, while Bill brought his wife. Ron knew everyone would have rather had it the other way around; no one was terribly fond of Fleur.

'Why are you doing zat?' asked Fleur as she smoothed her silvery hair. 'Wouldn't eet be easier to use your wand?'

'Mum says this way is better,' replied Ron with a shrug. He didn't even look up from his pile of potatoes; Fleur no longer had an effect on him, and he was sure she was using her powers because George, sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, was lightly drooling with his hands carefully folded in his lap. Charlie drummed his fingers on top of the table, watching George with amusement. Bill was leaning back in his respective chair, his feet crossed at the ankles on the table. Fred and Angelina were working on figures from the joke shop, trying to figure out last week's profits. Percy was out in the garden, looking for gnomes, still doing everything he could for his mother to make up for what a git he was a few years back. Mrs Weasley had gone upstairs, probably to have a private cry, which Ron had discovered she did several times a day.

'And do you always do what your muzzer says?'

Ron didn't replied. Bill needed to get control of his ruddy wife.

They all were a bit sombre, and had been since Arthur had gone missing, so Fleur's usual antics were unappreciated.

'Bill!' Mrs Weasley cried out, bustling into the kitchen. 'Get those dirty boots off the table!' She sent a spark out from the end of her wand, causing Bill to jump up and shoot his mother a nasty look. Mrs Weasley ignored him, stirring the contents of her pans boiling on the cooker.

'Beel,' said Fleur, 'I told you at home to clean your boots before we left. Zose shoos are vairy dirty. A seemple cleaning spell would—'

'Fleur,' snapped Bill, whipping out his wand and vanishing the mud on his boots, 'give it a rest, all right?'

Fleur folded her arms over her chest and sat down next to George who blushed a vivid red. Ron watched her, disgusted that she couldn't take a hint that this was the first time his family had gotten together since their father went missing and they weren't in the mood for her shite. He wished Hermione would get there; she never took any of Fleur's crap, and Bill was too scared of Hermione's temper to take up for his own wife.

'So, Bill, how's work?'

'Work's fine, Mum,' answered Bill.

'I suppose no one says anything about the ponytail since you're no longer working at a desk?'

'No one said anything about my ponytail in the first place.'

Mrs Weasley scoffed.

'Why are you always on about my hair? Ron's is one strand shy of being past his shoulders, y'know.'

'Thanks a lot!' snapped Ron. 'I thought we were supposed to be on the same side. Some brother you are.'

Bill laughed. 'Well, it _is_ getting long.'

'No longer than yours, y'know,' barked Ron. 'And it's not "long," it's shaggy.'

Bill shrugged. 'I don't care. I'm all for long hair.'

'It doesn't matter what you think, Bill,' said Charlie with a twinkle in his eye. 'All that matters is that _Hermione_ likes his hair.'

'I bet she does,' said Fred, tearing his eyes away from the figures he was still working on. 'She probably runs her fingers through it after he gives her a good rogerin—'

'FRED!' Ron yelled.

'Hey, don't blame me. Ginny's got a big mouth.'

'I thought only Harry knew about Ginny's big mouth,' commented George.

Mrs Weasley turned around. 'Not another word about _any_ of this! One more inappropriate comment and you can go without dinner _and_ breakfast.'

Fred gasped. 'You _wouldn't_.'

'Try me,' snarled Mrs Weasley.

'We didn't get a chance to eat lunch today – the shop was too busy.'

Mrs Weasley shrugged. 'So then you'll be good.' Clearing her throat, she turned back around to the stove. 'So, Ronnie, what did you get Hermione for her birthday yesterday?'

'I bet _I _know what he got Hermione,' said Fred with a laugh.

'I'm warning you,' said Mrs Weasley, turning around and shaking her spoon at Fred. 'Ronnie?' she repeated when Ron chose to ignore her.

'Oh, um... er... just a piece of jewellery is all.'

'What kind of jewellery?' asked Fleur, her eyes brightening.

'Um... Enchanted, I suppose.'

'Oh? You weent to a metal charmer? Or a gem charmer?'

Ron nodded. 'Um, yes.'

'What does eet look like?'

Ron felt the tips of his ears heat up. 'You know, I don't really want to talk about this.'

'Aw, is ickle Ronnikins embarrassed?' asked Fred teasingly. His smile faded as Ron turned a darker shade of red, ignoring him. 'Ron..?'

'I just don't want to talk about it.'

Mrs Weasley frowned. 'Well, I can just ask her when she gets here.'

Ron was still silent. He wanted to tell his family about Hermione, but, at the same time, he didn't feel like dealing with their reactions, either. His father was missing while Ron had a brilliant night. It didn't seem fair that he should be happy when his father was probably suffering at the hands of former Death Eaters.

'Are you afraid zat ze jewellery eez no good?'

'No,' said Ron immediately.

'Beel gave me a rooby ring for my birthday, didn't you, Beel?'

Ron narrowed his eyes at his brother who just smiled broadly and shrugged. Bill had the money to buy Fleur pretty things, and in return she gave him excellent shags. Ron had overheard a conversation along those lines Bill had with Charlie one Christmas. Fleur was beautiful, anyone could see that, but she only wanted the best. She clearly thought Bill was the best-looking, and since she had the best-looking man she required the best-looking things. Ron slowly grew to dislike her almost as much as Hermione did – although, he guessed no one could hate her as much as Hermione.

'Speaking of rings,' said Fred with a mischievous grin spreading across his face, 'when are you going to give Hermione an engagement one?'

'I hate you,' Ron said, staring daggers at his brother.

'Ron!' cried Mrs Weasley.

'Sorry, Mum,' mumbled Ron.

'Still,' continued Mrs Weasley, 'when _are_ you going to give her an engagement ring? It would be nice to make an honest woman out of her; she honestly can't like being a scarlet woman.'

Ron covered his face with his hands. 'Oh, I don't _believe_ this. You lot are entirely mental, I swear.'

'Ron? Did you..?'

Ron didn't answer. He hated his family. They were all rubbish, trying to embarrass him like that. Oh, the twins were _definitely_ going to take the mickey out of him.

'Ohh, Ronnie!' squealed Mrs Weasley, giving her youngest son a bone-crushing hug. 'I always did like Hermione.'

'Yeah, except in fourth year when you thought she broke Harry's heart.'

Mrs Weasley waved a dismissive hand. 'That's neither here nor there. Besides, how was I supposed to know that _Witch Weekly_ printed falsehoods?' Mrs Weasley sighed. 'It's nice to have happy things happen when...'

There was no need for her to finish the sentence.

'I remember 'Ermione from ze Yule Ball at 'Ogwarts. She and Viktor made a vairy 'andsome couple. All ze Beauxbatons girls were vairy jealous of 'er.'

Ron scowled.

'Oh, no,' scolded Fred, 'we don't mention Viktor Krum in the presence of Ron. What do you call him, Ronnie-boy? _Vicky_? Hermione's gonna deck you one day when you fly off your broomstick all in a tizzy again because she's gotten a letter from him.'

'She went to dinner with him not too long ago, y'know. I was just fine with it.'

'Liar,' said Charlie, studying Ron's expressionless face.

Ron blushed. Oh, how he would be glad when this dinner was over.

XXXXXXX

For the first time, Ron met Hermione's boss. Mulciber sat in the corner of The Burrow's kitchen, where the meeting of the Order of the Phoenix was being held. All of the old Order members sat around the table, looking very grave. Hermione, in particular, appeared extremely apprehensive. She clutched Ron's hand, and he ran his finger back and forth over the ring she proudly wore on her left hand.

McGonagall, having taken over the Order after Dumbledore's death, Apparated into the kitchen, and the meeting officially began.

'Alberic?' said McGonagall.

'Yes, Minerva?'

'Are you ready to discuss your findings?'

Alberic Mulciber stood up and cleared his throat. 'I'm not a new member of the Order, although I rarely attended meetings over the past few years. I'm afraid my work has gotten in the way. Now, though, the two overlap. My work cannot keep me from the Order any longer, which is good for all of you because you're going to learn exactly what we're up against.'

'I thought this was another meeting to catch us all up about the Death Eaters that still need to be caught?' said Fred. He looked at his twin who shrugged; they both looked confused.

'Yesterday one of the personnel from Magical Games and Sports went missing. That puts the total up to forty-four. There's a connection between them. I'm sure you could have figured that out. Yes, now, they are missing because of the essence of Voldemort.'

All of the members had blank looks on their faces. Ron noted that Charlie looked especially confused, and whenever Charlie was confused he got in a bad mood. He was a renowned Seeker during his Hogwarts years and a right good dragon tamer, but he wasn't of the same Head Boy calibre that Bill or Percy were... or, well, Ron as well.

'Are you going to explain to us what that is?' Charlie asked with a rather tensed tone.

'I'll let Miss Granger explain that. She's been researching all about it, actually.' Mulciber looked at Hermione.

Ron gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before she slowly stood up, smoothing out her jumper and skirt. She explained it all very carefully – how an already 'bad' wizard would go even further towards the side of evil if suddenly inflicted with the essence of Voldemort.

'So, zere eez an exact repleeca of Voldemort out zere now?' Fleur asked, looking particularly concerned.

'Er – no,' answered Hermione. 'The amount of evil Voldemort had in him wasn't directly transferred to McDougal, the Minister of Magic, who we believe got the essence.'

'Zis _essence_ was just _given_ to a Death Eater? 'Ow could no one 'ave seen zis coming?'

Hermione visibly stiffened. 'The potion that killed Voldemort's soul... It rids just enough of the soul so that Voldemort could not stay on earth as a spirit. When he tried to use the Killing Curse on Harry Potter, he destroyed his own body, and he was just a soul, just a spirit. He was able to invade other bodies to stay alive. He possessed the body of our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher when we were first-years. The potion killed enough of Voldemort's soul so that he would not be able to survive and possess anyone else. The potion killed his soul, but did not get rid of the evil essence surrounding Voldemort's soul.'

''Ow could you not know zis would 'appen?' Fleur demanded.

Hermione bit her lower lip.

'There wasn't enough time to continue research on the potion,' said Ron, when he realised Hermione was speechless. 'It took over a month's worth of research to find this out. Last term we were all more concerned with just killing You Know Who.'

Fleur opened her mouth to reply, but Bill placed a hand on her arm and shook his head.

'But I want to know if zis McDougal eez as powerful as Voldemort was. I don't want to lose you; last time was a close enough call, Beel.'

Ron had to admit his dislike of Fleur was just lowered a notch. At least she was concerned for his brother's life instead of only her own. Perhaps she wasn't quite as self-centred as he thought. Well, maybe, anyway.

Hermione sat back down next to Ron, but avoided his eyes. Mulciber continued the talk on essences before McGonagall took control of the meeting.

'We don't have any solid proof that McDougal is indeed trying to gain power, and since he is the Minister of Magic we all must exercise extreme caution when discussing this... matter. For now, all we can do is keep our eyes and ears alert. Any information about the missing Ministry personnel, who any new targets might be, or where they are being held, contact me _immediately_.'

Everyone in the room nodded. Mrs Weasley looked out of the window with wet eyes; she always looked as though she was going to cry if someone mentioned the missing people. She was afraid for Arthur's life; they all were.

The meeting was concluded, but before Ron could take Hermione aside, she Disapparated, muttering something about more research she had to do at work.

XXXXXXX

But Hermione couldn't concentrate at work. Mulciber ended up telling her to just go home for the rest of the day. Fleur's questions had really agitated her; ''Ow could you not know zis would 'appen?' Hermione walked through the corridors of the Ministry with visions of strangling Fleur dancing in her head.

Hermione didn't want to be alone, but Ron had Quidditch practise until six o'clock. Well, it was Monday and Viktor would probably be in the Department of Magical Games and Sports; today was his first day.

'Can I help you?'

Hermione recognised the old witch from when she came to this Department over the summer.

'Yes, is Viktor Krum—'

'First door to your left.'

'Thanks.'

Hermione walked down the hallway and peered in the open door. Viktor was flipping through a stack of parchment nearly two feet high on his desk. He seemed to have sensed someone was in his doorway because he looked up. A smile broke out over his face when he saw Hermione.

'Hello!' he said enthusiastically.

'Hello. Are you enjoying your first day?'

Viktor nodded. 'I haff never seen so many forms about Quidditch. Your England is haff'ing far too many teams.' Viktor studied Hermione's face. 'Vot's wrong? You look... not happy.'

'I didn't have a good morning, is all.'

'Vos it Ron?'

Hermione shook her head. 'No, Ron is great. Really great. He asked me to marry him.'

'And you are saying yes?'

Hermione nodded.

'Good. He makes you happy.'

'Yes.'

Viktor nodded. 'That's vot is important. Nothing else matters. My mauther told me to only be happy. I shouldn't play Quidditch if I don't like it, even if my fauther vants me to do this. I listen to her, that is vhy I am here with Irina Aleksandra. You are vorrying always about little things. Your focus should not be on vot is wrong, but vot is right, yes?'

Hermione nodded. What Viktor said was very true... She _did_ worry about what she did wrong... always. And she shouldn't. Her focus should be on what was right and what made her happy.

Ron.

Ron was everything that was right and good and happy in her life. Feeling a bit better, Hermione said good-bye and let Viktor get back to his work.

XXXXXXX

'I have a really big favour to ask of you,' Ginny said to Stebbins after breakfast. It was the morning of the first Hogsmeade visit. 'I was wondering if you minded whether Rebecca joined us...'

'Rebecca?' Stebbins looked a bit confused.

'Rebecca Harris. She's a fifth-year Slytherin. She told me last night when we were in the library that she was going to skip the Hogsmeade visit because her friends – the few of us who haven't completely abandoned her – all have dates.'

'Why would her friends abandon her?' asked Stebbins.

Ginny looked at him blankly. 'Seriously? You didn't know that she is the only Slytherin who isn't pure-blood?'

'Oh, I heard that rumour, but that's what I thought it was – a rumour.'

Ginny shook her head. 'No, it's true. So, would you mind? If you do, we can just go alone.'

'No, it's fine,' said Stebbins.

Ginny smiled. 'Good, because I sort of already invited her. Let me go get my cloak from my room and I'll meet you by the double doors.'

Ginny took off up the stairs. Stebbins looked very, very cute that morning in his Muggle-pre-faded jeans and blue jumper. He was attractive... cute... not handsome or anything, but Ginny could easily picture herself hanging off his arm. He was a nice guy, smart, and good at Quidditch, but the more Ginny got to know him, the more she realised that he wasn't perfect. At first, he did seem too good to be true, but he had a sarcastic side and he had zero tolerance for anyone who couldn't seem to understand his reference to Muggle things. Ginny had no idea what he was talking about when he said his father used a computer, and became exasperated when Ginny still didn't understand after he explained it to her. They ended up just changing the subject.

It was good, though, to have faults. If Ginny had known about Harry's emotional state, then she might have shied away from a relationship with him. Or that's what she liked to tell herself anyway. Going slow and getting to know Stebbins before jumping into a relationship with him was good. She would be able to accept his faults before becoming too committed or involved.

She grabbed her cloak from her room and dashed back down the stairs to the entrance hall. Rebecca was already there, waiting.

'Hi,' said Ginny.

'Hi.'

'I guess we'll just wait for Stebbins, then.'

Rebecca nodded.

'You seem... quiet.'

Rebecca shrugged. 'I haven't heard from Draco in nearly three weeks. He usually responds to my letters within a couple of days.'

'I'm sure there's nothing wrong.'

'Oh, I don't think anything's happened to him,' said Rebecca. 'I just... He probably went on holiday and conveniently "forgot" to tell me so I wouldn't worry.'

Ginny smiled. 'Ah, so you're worried?'

'Yes.'

'That's sweet.'

'It is not. It's seriously cutting into my study-time, y'know. Potions was Draco's favourite and it took me nearly three hours to write that ruddy essay on the Shrinking Potion because I kept thinking, _why hasn't he written me back_? Boys are silly creatures and I wish someone would write a book on the mad things they do... or don't do.'

'You sound like my brother. He was always on about the mad things girls do, Hermione especially. Ah, there's Stebbins.'

'Sorry to keep you waiting,' Stebbins said, jogging up to the girls. 'I forgot my money back in my room so I had to run back to get it. Hi, I'm Stebbins.'

Rebecca smiled. 'Rebecca. I'm assuming Stebbins is your last name?'

'That's what everyone usually asks me, and yes, it is. Shall we go, then?'

The three of them made their way to Hogsmeade, chatting idly about classes and professors. Stebbins quickly veered the conversation in another direction when Rebecca said she was thoroughly enjoying Defence this year; Ginny was glad for the subject change. Eventually, as they roamed the streets and the shops, the conversation turned towards Hagrid.

'He came to my brother's wedding over the summer,' said Ginny. 'Apparently whatever spells he was hit with sort of... vanished once Voldemort died.'

'I thought he was hit with the Unforgivable Curses?' said Rebecca.

Ginny shrugged. 'Some curses and hexes are linked directly to the caster. Once he's dead, then the spells are lifted. Actually, Harry said we're going to study those curses this month in class. They're supposed to be much, much stronger than normal curses.'

'Are curses like that necessary to learn?' Stebbins asked, picking up a slab of peanut-butter fudge to buy when they stepped into Honeydukes.

'Yes, of course,' said Rebecca. 'There's a new Dark wizard, haven't you heard?'

'You've heard about that?' asked Ginny.

'My father's an Unspeakable, remember? A lot of strange stuff's been going on at the Ministry. We send each other loads of owls. He likes to know what's going on at Hogwarts and I like to know what's going on outside of the castle.'

'I heard about it, too,' said Stebbins. 'Nothing specific, though. My parents are Muggles so everything I hear is from my friends. Do they know who the wizard is?'

Ginny shrugged. 'If they do, they haven't told me about it.'

Stebbins paid for his fudge and they made their way out of Honeydukes. He offered a piece to Rebecca and Ginny.

'Thanks,' Rebecca said. 'I hope Potter teaches my year those curses. I _really_ don't want to feel useless like I did last year.'

Ginny stopped walking. 'You weren't useless. If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have been able to defeat Voldemort.'

'I didn't really do anything.'

'You helped protect Hermione while she did the potion.'

'I suppose.'

Ginny touched the other girl's shoulder. 'Really, Rebecca, we couldn't have done it without you. Even if you still think you did it for yourself, you helped everyone else out in the process – helped the entire wizarding world, actually.'

Rebecca remained expressionless. Whether she believed Ginny, Ginny couldn't tell, but that didn't matter because Rebecca _had_ helped.

They started walking again in no particular direction. None of them had an agenda for the day; they were simply enjoying being out of the castle for the first time in a month.

'Want to get a Butterbeer?' asked Ginny.

Stebbins nodded. 'Yeah, I could use some food, too; I'm rather peckish.' He made to follow Ginny, but stopped when he noticed Rebecca wasn't following them. 'Are you coming?'

Ginny stopped walking as well. ''Becca?'

The black haired girl was as still as a statue, staring past Ginny and Stebbins. A familiar-looking blonde was peering through the window of Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop.

'Is that..?' Ginny began.

'Yeah,' whispered Rebecca.

'...Draco,' finished Ginny. 'Were you expecting..?'

'No.'

'So this is...'

'...a complete surprise? Yes.'

Ginny and Stebbins both turned their heads back around and stared at Rebecca.

'Um, 'Becca?' said Ginny.

'Hmm?' said Rebecca. Ginny wasn't sure if the girl was paying attention or not.

'Why are you still standing here?'

'Huh?' Rebecca seemed to snap out of it, and turned her eyes to Ginny.

'Why are you still standing here? Go over there!' Ginny gave Rebecca a gentle push.

Rebecca took in a deep breath and headed over to Scrivenshaft's with a determined look on her face.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX

A/N: For all you Ron/Hermione lovers – I have a bit of fluff for next chapter planned... Writing the accents of Viktor and Fleur is hard, so I hope I did a good job and they sound close to what they're supposed to sound like in the books. Thanks much to Doraemon! Cheers!


	8. Questions and Possession

**A/N: This chapter contains sexual content.**

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Eight: Questions and Possession**

XXXXXXX

Draco saw Ginny and some blonde-haired bloke walk past him and towards the Three Broomsticks. He waited as Rebecca slowly walked up to him, her hands clasped together behind her back.

'Hi,' she said. 'What're you doing here?'

'I needed a new quill.'

Rebecca pressed her lips together tightly.

'You mentioned this weekend was the first Hogsmeade weekend.'

'So you came to see me?'

Draco shrugged. He wasn't sure why he was here. Did he miss her? Malfoys never _missed_ anyone. They never _loved_ anyone. Draco's mother loved him, but she wasn't a true Malfoy; she was a Black.

He turned and began to walk, motioning with his head for Rebecca to follow him. She did, as he knew she would. She'd pulled her hair partially back with a silver clip that matched the silver and green Slytherin crest on her cloak. Her hair was growing out again; he liked it when it was long, although he never said anything when she took a Severing Charm to her hair, making it short.

'I was worrying about you.'

'Why?' asked Draco.

'Because... you hadn't written me back in three weeks. It's never taken you that long before, y'know. It was severely cutting into my study schedule, and I want to make top marks this year – I'm in the running for Head Girl next year.'

Draco nodded. 'Mmm,' he hummed. 'I got busy. I'm trying to figure out what type of job I can take. My father's old business partners don't trust me, so I can't indulge myself in the family business. Durmstrang has an opening for a Dark Arts professor.'

Rebecca snorted. 'You? A Defence teacher?'

'No, a _Dark Arts_ teacher. They don't teach Defence Against the Dark Arts there; they teach curses and hexes and all that. But after last term... at my house... and what happened with my father... I don't think I'd be a very good Dark Arts professor. Their Potions master, though, is over a hundred years old, so they might be looking to fill his position soon. I hear he's rather feeble.'

'You'd be just like Snape,' said Rebecca, somewhat dreamily. 'Stirring your cauldron... letting your draughts boil and simmer... the heat creating sweat on your brow...' Rebecca cleared her throat.

Draco stopped walking and stared at her. He blinked. '_What_?'

Rebecca shrugged. 'Nothing.'

'You like it when Snape stirs his cauldron?'

'Last week we made up Degreasing Potions and Pansy's little brother tipped over his cauldron by accident and drenched Snape in it. He's not so bad once you get the grease out of his hair and off his nose.'

Draco blinked again. What was an appropriate response to that? He sure as bloody hell didn't know.

'I like it when _you_ stir your cauldron.'

Somehow when Rebecca said 'stir your cauldron' it didn't sound as though she was referring to Potions... at all. Draco began walking again. He wasn't sure where he was headed, but he didn't want to go anywhere crowded, like the Three Broomsticks, and he didn't want to go to the Hog's Head – too many of his father's contacts frequented there. But he needed a place to sit down with Rebecca and talk, and the October wind was turning his ears into icicles.

'It's freezing out here,' said Draco. 'I don't remember October being this bloody cold.'

'We could go get a Butterbeer,' suggested Rebecca.

'I'm going to the Three Broomsticks. I don't fancy running into Potter's poncy arse.'

'Well, there's always Madam Puddifoot's.'

'Absolutely not.'

'They have coffee and hot tea and hot chocolate. And I'm sure it's warm there.'

'No.'

'Come on,' said Rebecca, taking Draco's hand and tugging him towards the lurid coffee shop.

He felt a jolt shoot up his arm the moment Rebecca touched him. Inwardly, he groaned, and tried not to think about what it meant. Mmm, he missed her – _stop that! I did _not_ miss her_. Draco knew, though, that he couldn't keep lying to himself about it, or else he'd go mad.

He allowed Rebecca to drag him into Madam Puddifoot's. He'd gone there once before, when he was a sixth-year. Pansy Parkinson dragged him in, and he'd only gone along with it because she promised to make it 'worth his while.' He found all the frills to be nauseating, and Madam Puddifoot to be an obnoxious old hag.

The last time he'd be in the place was on Valentine's Day, when the entire shop was decorated in pink and red with bows and hearts – any bloke's absolute nightmare.

'Hello, dears,' greeted Madam Puddifoot as she approached the table Rebecca had chosen for them to sit at. Draco thought Madam Puddifoot to be rather fat, her black hair pulled back so tightly it only accentuated her rotund cheeks. Gross, it was like a short, black-haired version of Hagrid – fat, and horribly ugly when put in a dress.

'What can I get for you, m'dears?'

Rebecca looked at the short list of available drinks that sat on the table. 'I'll have a – ouch!'

Draco looked up. A small creature was circling above their table, wings flapping wildly. It seemed as though it had lost its balance mid-air and fallen into Rebecca's hair. 'What _is_ that?'

'Oh my,' said Madam Puddifoot, 'it looks as though one of my cherubs has gotten loose! That one is just a baby, though.'

The cherub flew out of Rebecca's hair and into the air again.

'A cherub?' said Draco, his voice laced with disgust. 'It looks like a giant gnat. There should be a law against having bloody insects fly above your head in a restaurant.'

'Well, young man, you obviously don't recognise the beauty of a cherub. Besides, that one's a baby! His wings haven't matured yet, dear.'

'I hope once they do, he'll be able to fly around your coffee shop without maiming the customers. Bad business practise, that.'

'I'm not maimed,' Rebecca ground out.

'And you said it was a baby?' Draco made a face. 'I don't know much about babies, but I'm assuming your baby-cherubs are house-broken, yeah? I mean, I don't want to get a chocolate chip biscuit and find out that the chips aren't actually chocolate because your _baby cherub_ shat in the batter.'

'Draco!' Rebecca cried.

'What?'

'If you two dears aren't going to order anything, perhaps you should leave.'

Draco knew it was a request, rather than a question, but the shop was warm and he did need to have a conversation with Rebecca...

'One hot chocolate,' said Draco, 'for her. Nothing for me.'

Madam Puddifoot left their table for a moment, coming back with a mug full of rich-looking, steaming hot chocolate. When she left, Draco cleared his throat and looked at Rebecca.

'So... er, how's school?'

'You're an arse.'

Draco was surprised. Rebecca had never called him an arse before. 'Why?'

'How you treated Madam Puddifoot. It's not her fault that the cherub got loose.'

Draco snorted. 'Yeah, "got loose." What does she do, breed them and keep them in cages? Illegal, that.'

Rebecca sighed.

'Sorry,' Draco mumbled, but he was sure Rebecca could sense the insincerity in his voice.

'So, did you miss me? Is that why you came to Hogsmeade?'

'Er...'

'Draco? Please, just tell me what's going on. This game we've been playing... dancing back and forth between a relationship and me being your sex-toy is giving me a headache, and, like I said, I want good marks this year. I can't deal with not knowing where we stand. I don't like being your source of amusement when you want to fool around. I might be a... a... a Mudblood, but I still deserve better than that.'

Draco nodded. 'Right. What do you want from me?'

'Huh?'

'What do you want from me?' Draco repeated. 'It's not a difficult question.'

'I think you know what I want.'

'Tell me anyway.'

Rebecca took in a deep breath, her green eyes faltering. 'Er... I want to, y'know, be with you, but not at the sake of my pride.'

'So, what does that mean?'

'Ultimately? That I'm not going to invest anymore energy into you, unless we become a couple.'

Draco snorted.

'Like we were before,' finished Rebecca.

'Ah. Like we were before. Before I knew you were a Mudblood, you mean.'

Rebecca rolled her eyes, but nodded. 'Yes.'

'I don't know how to do that.'

'Blood shouldn't be an issue, Draco... I'm still an excellent witch, aren't I? My father's a wizard. As far as I'm concerned, I'm fully magical. Why can't you see that?'

Draco shrugged. The shop suddenly felt stifling hot.

'Damn it, Draco! Give me an answer. Please? I need to know where we stand.'

Draco wet his mouth and nodded. 'Right...'

'_Can_ you give me an answer? Or do you have to think about it?'

'No.' Draco shook his head. 'No, I can give you answer.'

XXXXXXX

That same Saturday, Ron felt particularly down. His father was missing and Hermione and Mulciber were no closer in finding out where he was – or where any of the personnel were for that matter. Quidditch practise had been cancelled for the next three days; the entire team was under strict orders to rest before travelling to Uganda to play against the Proudsticks.

Ron had a lot on his mind besides just his father. There was Hermione; she had been increasingly standoffish whenever the subject of choosing a wedding date arose. It was to the point where she completely avoided Sunday dinners at The Burrow and 'forgot' to reply to his mum's owls. Then there was his mum; nagging him about Quidditch and his girlfriend ('You're working yourself too hard! Silly sport! Not a proper job for a man looking to start a family – you _are_ going to start a family, aren't you? Once Hermione ceases being a scarlet woman?'). Finally, there was Quidditch itself; Ron had recently been offered a spot in the tryouts for the Falcons, one of the local teams in the UK. Several of the National team members were also on local teams. The question running through his mind was whether he should tryout. It would be more money, more Quidditch, but less time with Hermione.

How did anyone on the English National Team balance out practises and games between two teams? There was actually an office in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Ron found out, whose sole purpose was to work with all the other Ministries and schedule all the Quidditch matches throughout the world so that there would be no conflicts between the teams and the members. The whole idea of that job seemed utterly ridiculous, but there was obviously a necessity for it.

'Why do you have to be on two teams, anyway?' Hermione asked, looking at Ron over her goblet of pumpkin juice. She had made dinner for the two of them at her flat.

'I don't _have_ to,' replied Ron. 'It would be more money, though. And more practise, I suppose. Marcus Hooper – the Keeper now – is going to retire soon. Well, I say "retire," but really the Captain is going to kick him off the team. His flying's been rubbish, but he's so popular they're going to let him leave the team with a spot of dignity left.'

'So when do you start playing in the games?'

'I think I'm going to be playing next week in Uganda.'

Hermione nodded. 'Well, good luck.'

'Right.'

'What's wrong? You don't seem yourself tonight, Ron.'

Ron sighed. 'I don't know. There's a lot on my mind.'

'Oh. Like what?'

'Quidditch, dad... I don't know.' Ron shifted in his seat.

Hermione looked down at her hands. 'I'm sorry I haven't been able to find him.'

'It's not your fault. The Aurors have been looking and they've come up with nothing. Annoying, that.'

'I want to devote all my time to it, really, but Mulciber still wants to me to research how to destroy an essence.'

'Oh. Why?'

'Because that will be the easiest way to stop McDougal without killing him.'

'Oh... right.' Ron scratched the back of his head. 'And we're sure that _not_ killing him is the best way?'

'The Order's purpose isn't to just kill people, Ron. The ultimate goal for them is justice. If we can get McDougal doing a Dark act or ordering someone else to do it for him, then we can send him to Azkaban... but if he has the essence of Voldemort in him still, then he'll be more powerful.'

Ron nodded. 'I see.'

'It's just so frustrating!' Hermione cried out; Ron jumped.

'What is?'

'This whole thing! There aren't enough books on the subject. It's driving me mad!'

Ron smiled. He got up from the table and crossed over to Hermione. He embraced her from where she sat, standing behind her, his arms around her neck. She leaned her head back, against his chest, and sighed.

'I'm sorry,' she murmured. 'I suppose I'm just... overwhelmed... frustrated... I'm not used to not having all the answers.'

'Shh,' Ron hummed in her ear.

He brushed the hair away from her neck and bent down and began to feast up on her shoulder. Her shirt kept getting in his way, so he reached around and unbuttoned it, pulling it to the side to give him better access to her flesh. Gripping her upper arm, he continued to suck at the exposed skin of her shoulder, his other hand tracing long lines up and down her stomach, teasing her breast through the cotton of her bra.

After nearly a minute, he swept her shirt completely off. Still behind her, he let one hand brush through her mane of messy curls, allowing his fingers to get tangled in her strands. His other hand continued to trace long lines, but soon dove past the waistband of her skirt and traced circles over her knickers. She radiated heat into his hand, driving him mad. He continued making circles as Hermione's knees fell open, giving him better access. He tugged on her hair gently so that she would drop her head back. Her lips were partly open and he bent his head back down to kiss them, upside-down, his tongue brushing back and forth over hers.

He felt Hermione's hand reach up and grasp his neck. She pulled him closer, causing their teeth to clank together briefly; Ron didn't care. Their tongues seemed to be battling each other, circling, thrusting... Ron had to pull back, and he heard Hermione moan at the loss of contact. He kissed her jaw, her cheeks, her closed eyelids. His fingers stopped making circles over her knickers, and slid inside them, making circles over the curls there. He was teasing her, he knew. When she began to grind against his hand, Ron had to steady himself, take in a few deep breaths, before continuing the movements of his hand.

'Mmm,' he moaned against her ear. He opened his eyes to see Hermione, her head back just slightly, breathing slow and deep, her mouth parted.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him questioningly. 'Why did you stop?' she asked, her voice low.

Ron shook his head and shrugged. He continued the ministrations of his hand, his blue eyes holding Hermione's chocolate ones. She wet her lips as Ron untangled his hand from her hair and reached down to unhook her bra. She took it off, and Ron felt her muscles clench and unclench around his fingers in anticipation as his other hand pressed against the warm flesh of her back.

'You shouldn't be so uptight,' he whispered in her ear as he moved his hand down her back and underneath her bum, gripping her. 'You need to relax... You don't always have to have the answers...'

'And you don't have to be on two teams just to prove you're good at Quidditch.'

'What?'

'You didn't make it into the Auror program so you thought you were rubbish at everything, but you made it onto the English National Team. You don't have to tryout for a local team as well – we already know you're good at Quidditch. You don't need to prove anything...'

'How do you always know what I'm feeling before _I _even know what I'm feeling?'

Hermione shrugged. 'I know now you're feeling randy...' she said, reaching back, touching the back of Ron's legs from where he still stood behind her. '...and flushed...' She moved her hands up the back of his legs. '...and hot...'

'Shite,' murmured Ron. He pulled Hermione up so that she was standing and he kicked her chair out of the way; it landed a few feet away with a thump. He paid no attention to the chair, as his focus was on Hermione. He moved her dinner plate and goblet before gently pushing on her back so that she was bent over the dining room table. Starting at the nape of her neck, he kissed his way down her spine.

'But I'm sure you already knew all those things,' breathed Hermione, her eyes shut. She bit her lower lip.

Ron pulled down her skirt and knickers, and undid the belt and zipper of his trousers that were pressing almost-painfully against him. As he shed of the offending garments, he leaned over Hermione, his chest flush against her back. He whispered in her ear, 'I did know those things. You make me feel like that.'

'Ron...'

To Ron's ears, his name on Hermione's lips sounded like a plea. Whatever she wanted, he wanted to give her. He lived to make her happy, see her sated and smiling.

He lifted himself up off her just enough to find her and slide inside her. She raised herself up a bit as well, resting on her elbows. Reaching around, he found her breast with one hand, and the curls between her legs with the other. He bent his head down so that his forehead was against her shoulder. His breath came in pants as he made love to her. He shut his eyes tight, trying to keep control over himself. Hermione reached one hand up and put it over Ron's. She squeezed it, and made his hand grip her breast harder. The other hand she used to press against the fingers Ron was using on her. Ron almost lost himself right then as Hermione tried to get him to move his fingers faster against her, but he maintained control for another few minutes before coming – and he felt dizzy when he did.

Whenever they made love, whenever Ron was inside her, he felt as though she was really his, that he had her. He never wanted to stop making love to her, not just because it felt good – no, amazing – but because he felt that they were one, joined, and no one else could take her away. She _was_ his.

Ron stood up and took a step back. Hermione turned around, still biting her lower lip, and looked up at him.

'I'll never be able to look at this table the same way again,' she said.

Ron snorted.

Hermione reached for her knickers, but Ron stopped her. She gave him a quizzical look.

'I don't think we spend enough naked time together.'

Hermione arched an eyebrow.

Ron pulled her to him, his arms encircling her waist. 'I like it when you're starkers. Beautiful sight, that.'

Hermione rolled her eyes.

'I'm serious!' Ron took Hermione's hand and kissed the finger that the engagement ring adorned. 'I can't wait until you're officially mine – er, and I mean that in the most non-possessive way possible,' he added hastily.

'I want to be yours,' said Hermione quietly.

'Yeah?'

She nodded.

'Good.' Ron kissed the top of her head. 'I didn't know that loving someone could hurt so much.'

'Where does it hurt, Ron?' Hermione took her hand out of his grasp and placed it over his heart. 'Here?'

Ron nodded.

'It hurts me there, too. Sometimes I think my heart is going to explode.'

'Funny thing, love. But I suppose it's not all bad,' he said with a smile. 'I don't mind how it hurts.'

'Me neither.'

Ron let go of Hermione. 'Let's go to bed.'

She laughed and nodded; Ron winked.

XXXXXXX

Ginny looked for Rebecca in the Great Hall during dinner, but she couldn't find the raven-haired girl. After they split up in Hogsmeade, Ginny stuck with Stebbins and didn't meet back up with Rebecca. She was _dying_ to know what happened with Draco. It was unbelievable, him showing up unannounced in Hogsmeade. What in the name of Merlin was he thinking?

After finishing her pudding, Ginny got up, told Colin she'd see him later in the common room (he wanted to hear all the details about the date), and made her way out of the Great Hall. She made her way up the staircases and decided to make a detour to the library before going back to Gryffindor Tower; she needed to check out a book for her Potions essay.

The library was eerily quiet. Madam Pince was nowhere to be found, and Ginny figured she must still be eating dinner. No matter, this gave Ginny time to browse the books until she found the right one – OUCH!

Ginny was so focused on the row of books in front of her, she was blindsided by someone, crashing into them and causing a slue of books to spill onto the floor.

'I'm sorry!' cried Ginny. 'I wasn't watching where I was – oh.' It was Harry.

'Hi,' he mumbled.

Ginny bent down to help him pick up all his books. 'You practically have the whole library in your arms, y'know. Are you pretending to be Hermione?'

Harry frowned and shook his head. 'No. I'm not an expert on Binding Spells, and that's really what I want to cover next week in class, what with some fucked-up wizard prancing about pretending he's Voldemort. Enough people died the first time around; I'd like to prepare as many as I can to defend themselves this time.'

'The Order's on top of things, Harry,' said Ginny, although she wasn't sure how much truth was really in that statement.

'No, they're not,' he mumbled.

'How d'you know? You haven't been to an Order meeting, have you?'

Harry shook his head. 'Only because the latest meeting happened while I was teaching. McGonagall doesn't have classes anymore, and she wouldn't let me cancel mine. She thought it would look suspicious if we were both gone. Snape stayed here as well, even though he's still in the Order, too.'

'Oh.'

'I wasn't avoiding your brother, if that's what you're thinking.'

'What?'

Harry shifted the stack of books in his arms. 'Well, he doesn't want to have anything to do with me, since I "abandoned" him and all that rot. He was at the meeting, but that's not why I didn't go. I would've, if I could have, whether Ron was there or not.'

'Can you blame him, Harry? You _did_ abandon him – all of us, really.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'I'm not having this conversation. My life is rubbish at the moment as it is, I don't want to add anything else to the pile of shite that is my existence.'

'Don't be so dramatic!' snapped Ginny. 'Your life isn't shite.'

'Oh, isn't it, though? My best mate won't talk to me. I was rejected from the one job I could do best. I have to teach a bunch of snot-nosed eleven-year-olds how to defend themselves, even though they barely know how to hold a bloody wand. My colleague is Snape, my favourite person, y'know. There's some bloke out there trying to take a leaf out of Voldemort's book and kidnapping people. And I have to watch my ex-girlfriend go on dates with other blokes. I don't like that Stebbins character, y'know. Looks like a pompous git.'

'Harry—'

'I know, I know, I have no right to say anything to you about who you choose to date, and don't worry, Stebbins has top marks in my class... much to my... displeasure. Ginny, just...' Harry looked at her with huge, sad eyes. Ginny immediately felt sorry for him. '...just, move so I can get these books to my office before I drop them.'

'You can always levitate them back,' whispered Ginny.

Harry glared at her, and walked past her. She didn't watch him walk out of the library; she didn't think she could stand the sight of him walking away from her. She felt guilty and sad for him, even though part of her thought that throughout Harry's life he made his life out to be more tragic than it should have been.

No, she wouldn't let Harry get her down. She was in a good mood – no, a _great_ mood, and she wanted to keep it that way. Certainly her mood wouldn't sustain itself if she didn't find some sort of distraction.

Perfect! Rebecca walked into the library, her arms full of textbooks. Ginny made her way over to the table where the Slytherin girl was placing her books.

'So,' said Ginny, causing Rebecca to look up, 'you _have_ to tell what happened with Draco this afternoon.'

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX


	9. Kisses and Fights

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Nine: Kisses and Fights**

XXXXXXX

Rebecca looked back down at her books. 'Nothing.'

Ginny did not believe her for a single second. 'Nothing my arse! Tell me!' Ginny sat down at the table. 'Please? You're not crying so it had to have been good.'

'Oh, so you think if Draco decided to toss me aside I'd be crying? I do _not_ cry.'

Ginny sighed.

'Slytherins do not cry.'

'Sorry,' mumbled Ginny.

'How was dinner?'

'Nice change of subject.'

'Notice I wasn't there, then, did you?'

'Of course.'

'Want to know why?'

'Of course.'

'Spent a bit of extra time in Hogsmeade. Don't say anything, though. If McGonagall finds out she'd dock house points for sure.'

'And what were you doing..?'

'Snogging Draco.'

'Ha!' Ginny hooted. She blushed as Madam Pince cleared her throat loudly, as a warning. 'Brilliant.'

'It was that. I need to work on my Potions essay.'

'Oh, bugger the essay, I want details!'

Rebecca turned red. 'There aren't really any details. We went to Madam Puddifoots and Draco was being a complete git, but then we had this talk... it lasted a while... and we decided to sort-of start fresh, so that Draco can grow more accustomed to dating someone who isn't pure-blood.'

'And then you snogged.'

'Yes.'

'Brilliant.'

'We've already established that it was. How was the rest of the date with Stebbins?'

'Oh, it was all right.'

'Fancy him, then?'

'A bit, yes. We get along rather well, really. I think I'm scared to go that extra step with him. We held hands, but I haven't let him kiss me. Although, to be fair, he hasn't tried, yet.'

'Will you let him if he does?'

'Dunno. I suppose.'

'You probably should,' said Rebecca, 'if you want to keep dating him. Unless you're still in love with Harry.'

'Harry and I are over. He abandoned us. Hard thing to get over, yeah?'

'Oh, I don't know. Harry's never struck me as the type to easily get over things. But I don't know him as well as you do,' Rebecca quickly added.

'But he didn't let anyone try to help him.'

'You said he felt confused.'

'That's what he said. He was confused and needed to figure things out.'

'So he didn't actually abandon you, then.'

'Yes, he did.'

'No,' said Rebecca, 'he didn't. Look.' She put down her quill. 'Harry has always been emotional, yeah? Snapping people's heads off, always needing to be focused on. His life has always been hard. He was abused by those ridiculous Muggles and then a Dark wizard tried to kill him for all of his magical life. Then suddenly, Voldemort is no longer a threat and Harry's life got a whole lot simpler... only he has to deal with killing someone, with finding new purpose, with all of it. Emotions can be terrible things to manage when they sneak up on you. You're too hard on him, but like I said... I don't know Harry as well as you do.'

Ginny sat there, dumbstruck. What the..? 'You _can't_ be serious! You're taking his side?'

'There are no sides. It's just my opinion, don't get all crazy there.'

'Whatever.' Ginny stood up and walked out of the library. Her blood boiled; her heart pounded. The nerve... How dare she! Ginny stomped all the way back to Gryffindor Tower.

XXXXXXX

A few days later, Hermione Apparated into Ron's room with a crack. He looked up from where he was flipping through a Quidditch magazine, his bags packed at the end of his bed for his trip to Latvia. The team was going away for a little over two weeks on their annual European Quidditch Tour, stopping in France, Latvia, Bulgaria, Sicily, and Ukraine. The games were spread far enough apart that they should be able to make all of them – unless they had another game like the one in 1947, when the British and Latvian Seekers circled the pitch for three and a half weeks before they found the Snitch. The team had just returned from Uganda, having met a dismal defeat there, and were on orders to get some rest and pack their bags for the European Quidditch Tour. Ron was a bit disappointed that he wouldn't have more time with Hermione before leaving, since he just got back, but that was the life of a professional Quidditch player.

'Hi,' said Ron. 'Come to bid me farewell?'

Hermione arched an eyebrow.

Ron sat up. 'I'm going away...'

'I know that,' said Hermione. 'I just came by to—'

'Hello, dear.'

Hermione whirled around as Mrs Weasley entered through the open door of Ron's room. She had a large stack of jumpers and socks levitating in front of her. Her red hair was slipping out of the clip holding it up, and she looked as if she'd been cleaning all day long.

'Are you staying for supper?'

Hermione glanced at Ron. 'Oh... No... I had plans with... people from work.'

'Well, you're welcome to, if you want. The twins are coming, so just be careful what you pick up. Hopefully this visit no one will turn into a giant canary.'

'Right,' said Ron, standing up and opening up his wardrobe for his mum to levitate his clothes into.

Mrs Weasley turned and gave Hermione a bone-crushing hug; Ron winced at the almost-pained look upon his girlfriend's face.

'Mum...'

'Sorry,' said Mrs Weasley. She smiled at Hermione. 'I'm just so happy you're going to get married. It's nice to have something to be happy about when... well... you know.'

Hermione nodded.

'Have you chosen a date, yet? I keep asking Ronnie when the two of you are going to go ahead with it all. I imagine you'll move in together – at your flat, yeah?'

'We hadn't discussed it, really,' said Hermione.

'Why ever not?'

'Just hasn't come up.'

Mrs Weasley looked at Ron. He tried to avoid her gaze, but it was impossible. He gave his mum a sheepish smile.

'It hasn't come up?'

Ron shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

'Well, you should start discussing it! I don't like coming upstairs after supper only to find that my boy has gone off for the evening. It's not proper. You need to pick a date.'

'Well, I'm sorry you don't like your son visiting his _girlfriend_,' snapped Hermione, placing her hands on her hips. 'I know you think I'm some sort of scarlet woman—'

'I don't understand what the big deal is – RON! Where do you think you're going? – because you're already doing the things you _should_ be doing once you're married. What's holding you back?'

Ron had tried to inch his way towards the door, but to no avail. The look Hermione threw him said she wanted him to defend her, to help her, but he was at a loss for words. Even at eighteen, his mother was the scariest person he knew.

'This is none of your business,' said Hermione. 'Besides, who told you that Ron and I are doing married-couple things? Funny thing, that, because I know it wasn't me.'

Ron was sure his ears were on fire.

'I don't want to have this conversation anymore,' Hermione barked. She turned towards Ron. 'I'll see you when you get back.' And with a crack, she Disapparated.

'Blimey, Mum, now you've done it. I'll be back.'

Without waiting for his mum to reply, Ron Apparated to Hermione's flat. He looked around her lounge, but she wasn't there. He made his way down the hall to her bedroom where he found her, lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

'Hermione?'

'I'm not apologising to your mother.'

'I wasn't going to ask you to.'

'It's none of her business when we get married. We've only been engaged for a few weeks. Why the pressure? Why does she want us to get married so badly?'

Ron shrugged. He came and sat on the edge of her bed. 'I dunno.'

'And how does she even know what we do? I know you haven't told her.'

Ron shook his head. 'No, but she's not stupid. I'm sure she can guess what goes on when I'm gone at night.'

'Well, perhaps you shouldn't come over anymore. I don't want your mum to hate me or think I'm such a scarlet woman.'

'She doesn't hate you and she doesn't think that.'

'Shut it, Ron; right now, it's probably true.'

Ron wet his lips and looked at Hermione; her bushy hair was fanned all around her, a few curls lingered on her forehead, and the expression on her face was troubled. Sighing, Ron picked up her hand and kissed her palm.

'Hermione?'

'Mm?'

'Why _don't_ you want to talk about a date?'

Hermione took her hand back. 'You said before that you didn't care if we stayed engaged for a while. You said you understood that in my world, people just don't get married when they're still teenagers.'

'Yes, but you said you loved me. I thought you just said that to make _me_ feel better, in case _I _had any doubts. I'm the bloke; I'm the one who's supposed to be avoiding getting married, yeah? But instead _you_ are. And I don't understand why.'

'I just told you why. People in my world—'

'_This_ is your world, Hermione. The magical world is where you belong, not the Muggle world. Why are you so set on doing things the Muggle way?'

'Because I'm Muggle-born, Ron, don't you understand?'

Ron shook his head. 'I suppose I don't, but I'm trying. I want to.'

'I was a Muggle first, and there are certain things, certain traditions, that Muggles do during marriage ceremonies. There's a courtship and an engagement period and then the wedding. There're stages. We plan and have a big ceremony in a _church_ with flowers and bridesmaids and groomsmen standing at the altar with us. We cut the cake together, and I throw the bouquet and we drive off for a honeymoon with cans tied to the back of our car. That's a wedding as I know it, not a magical one, not one between a witch and a wizard. I know the moment we set a date your mum will be trying to do things the magical way, and I don't _want_ that. I'm Muggle first, and that's how I want this to be.'

'So we'll do it the Muggle way. I don't care. I just don't like you avoiding setting a date.'

'I'm not _ready_ to set a date.'

'But you were _ready_ to get engaged!' cried Ron. 'Why'd you accept the bloody ring if you didn't want to get engaged?'

'Perhaps I shouldn't have accepted it. I don't want to set a date.'

Ron reeled back and stood up. He felt as though he'd just been stung by the world's largest bee, in the middle of his chest. 'Wh-what?' he stammered. 'At all?'

'No. If you don't understand me, then maybe this is a bad idea.'

'Merlin, Hermione, do you have to row with me over _every_ bloody thing?'

'Don't you "Merlin, Hermione" me, Ron!' Hermione jumped up from her bed and pushed at Ron's shoulders, forcing him to step back. 'I don't like this pressure over a date. Why does it matter so much?'

'Er...'

Hermione looked at her watch. Ron's heart was racing. None of the thoughts in his head were remotely coherent; he wasn't exactly sure what was going on. All he knew was that Hermione was angry and he was getting hacked off himself.

'I'm late.'

'For what?'

'Dinner,' said Hermione. She opened up her wardrobe and shuffled through her clothes.

'With who?' Hermione didn't answer. 'With _who_?' Ron repeated.

'Viktor.'

'_Vicky_! You're having dinner with _Vicky_! Why the bloody hell didn't you tell me?'

Hermione glanced at him over her shoulder. 'Last time you didn't mind, y'know.'

'You could have told me.'

'I didn't want to start another row,' said Hermione, taking a blue shirt out and holding it up to examine it in the light.

'So, you're just having dinner with other blokes behind my back?'

'It's not as though I'm having a torrid affair with him, Ron. It's just dinner between two friends.' Hermione changed into the blue shirt.

'Yeah, right!'

'Don't you trust me?'

'First you refuse to set a wedding date and now you're having dinner with someone else and keeping secrets from me about it!' shouted Ron.

'It wasn't a secret.'

'So why didn't you tell me?' Ron threw his hands up in frustration. 'Know what? I don't care. This is stupid. Have your dinner with Vicky. Have a nice life with him. See if I care.'

Ron turned to stomp his way out of Hermione's bedroom, but stopped when she shouted at him.

'Fuck you, Ronald Weasley!'

Did she just say... Holy crap, she did. Hermione just swore, using the one word he never imagined he'd hear her say. He slowly turned around.

'What?'

Hermione took off her ring and threw it at him, catching him straight between the eyes. 'Have a nice life with him? See if you care? Well, I _will_. I don't want your ruddy ring anymore!'

Ron stared at the floor where the ring had landed, glittering in the sunlight. He heard a crack and knew Hermione had Disapparated from her flat.

XXXXXXX

The following Friday, Ginny and Stebbins sat in the back of the Defence room, playing hangman on a spare bit of parchment. Colin was diligently taking notes, as he always did in Harry's class since Harry had always been Colin's hero. Ginny and Stebbins would copy from him later, as they always did.

Ginny stifled a giggle as Stebbins revealed the word he'd chosen, and looked up as Harry cleared his throat. His look was penetrating; Ginny slunk down in her seat to avoid it.

All week they had been learning about Binding Spells. It was fascinating, really. Ginny finally understood exactly what had happened to Hagrid, and why he was suddenly well enough to teach lessons again.

'Binding Spells,' Harry told his class earlier in the week, 'are very powerful. They're usually associated with Dark magic. In doing a Binding Spell, you are binding that curse to yourself. If you curse someone with a Bone Breaking Hex, their bones will not be able to be healed by even the most skilled Healer or medi-wizard until you die – the curse is bound to you.'

'Seems like anyone could just do that with any ol' curse,' said a Slytherin boy in the front row named Terrence. 'What if I wanted to hex Luna with a Green Boil Curse and "bind" it to me? She'd have green boils until I die.'

Terrence looked over to his left, where blonde-haired Luna sat writing notes on a stack of parchment in front of her. She looked up at Terrence, unblinking, and kept his gaze until he looked away.

'Not every spell can be bound. Only the most powerful spells...'

Ginny didn't remember much of what Harry said after that. It was in her notes, though, that she got from Colin.

Now, Harry was trying to teach them how to defend themselves against Binding Spells. The shields and protection spells had to be carefully cast, or else...

'E,' whispered Ginny.

Stebbins shook his head and an arm was added to their hangman. He smiled at Ginny and she could feel her face heat up. He chuckled, earning another glare and throat clearing from Harry. Ignoring him, Ginny guessed another letter.

'S.'

Hmmm. Stebbins wrote down two S's. One A, two T's, two S's. Ginny studied the puzzle. She finished the rest of the vowels.

I –A-T TO –ISS –OU.

'I... Something... To... Something... Something...' Ginny narrowed her eyes. She could almost feel the wheels turning in her head. I... Want? To iss... You? I Want To –iss You...

'I Want To Kiss You,' said Ginny. The puzzle hadn't fully registered in her head, and she gasped. This time she was certain her face was bright red, her skin felt so hot. Stebbins kept smiling.

The bell rang just then, signalling the end of morning lessons and the beginning of lunch. The other students gathered their books together and headed for the door. Ginny took her time collecting her things, while watching out of the corner of her eye, Harry leave his classroom.

'Well?' said Stebbins. He took a step closer to Ginny; her heart stopped and she swallowed. He bent his head down, but Ginny pulled back slightly.

'Sorry,' she said.

'Too fast? I just thought... well, we study every night together, or, well, "study", y'know... and we went to Hogsmeade...'

'I'm sorry,' said Ginny again. She took a deep breath. Her mouth felt as though it was full of cotton; her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

Stebbins took her hand. 'It's all right. Just let me know when you're ready, then.'

Ginny nodded, feeling grateful. She looked into his eyes. They looked a bit sad, disappointed. Oh, what the hell was wrong with her? This was silly. She was seventeen-years-old. Surely she could kiss a bloke whenever she wanted. To hell with uncertainties.

'I'm ready.'

Ginny reached up and placed her hands on either side of Stebbins' face and brought him to her. She kissed him, and rather thoroughly, feeling his tongue brush across hers. Oh, this was brilliant. She regretted not doing this sooner. It was nice to feel excited – emotionally and physically – and it was nice that a boy was making her feel this way.

'Twenty points from Hufflepuff _and_ Gryffindor!' a voice barked out harshly.

Ginny and Stebbins broke away. Ginny's eyes crossed the room to the doorway where Harry had re-entered his classroom. His eyes flashed dangerously, and if smoke could have come out of his ears, it probably would have. Ginny had never seen him look more hacked off.

'Classrooms are not made for your private snogs,' he practically yelled.

Ginny stood there, shell-shocked, embarrassed, and still.

'Don't just stand there. Get out before I give both of you detention with Filch.'

Ginny shuddered. She'd heard the horror stories of Filch's detentions. He made the students clean without the use of magic. Disgusting, especially the stories of having to clean the bathrooms with toothbrushes.

She gathered her stuff quickly and made her way out of the classroom, being sure not to look Harry in the eye. She wasn't sure what she'd see, but she was certain that behind the anger at catching two students snogging in his classroom, there would be hurt and sadness. Ginny didn't think she could stand to see that in Harry's eyes... and know she had caused it.

XXXXXXX

Ron owled Hermione. He didn't actually expect a reply back. Not just because he figured she was too angry to write him back, but because Pig was liabel to get lost trying to find him since he wasn't at The Burrow. He missed her so much it hurt.

The first match was in Jelgava, Latvia. The game wasn't to start until noon, so Ron woke up especially early to go into the town to a small inn where a passageway to the magical section of the city could be found. There, Ron went to the library. Hermione had told him that the British Ministry of Magic had not only outlawed several books on Dark magic that might end up being crucial to her research, but they had destroyed them. Ron hoped that in these foreign cities where he was travelling, he would be able to find books on potions and essences and anything else that might, hopefully, prove useful to Hermione.

The project seemed even more important now that Ron had the ring back. He couldn't fix things yet, especially not with being made official Keeper of the team. Unfortunately, Ron couldn't find any books in Latvia – no one spoke good enough English for Ron to understand. Now, though, standing in front of a large bookstore in Odessa, Ukraine, Ron hoped to find something here.

He walked inside and up to the front desk.

'Hi,' he said, 'd'you, by chance, speak English?'

The young witch on the other side of the desk looked up. She had a severe haircut, close to her head, and small black eyes like those of beetles. Her clothes were all black, her skirt leather. Ron swallowed.

'Yes. I speak English some.'

'Oh, good. When I was in Latvia yesterday no one spoke English. I was hoping to find someone to help me with a project I have when we came to the Ukraine today.'

'Ukraine,' said the witch.

'Huh?'

'Do you live in _the_ England? No. Not _the_ Ukraine. Just Ukraine.'

Ron blinked.

'Everybody say, "You are from _the_ Ukraine." And to everybody I say, "No. From _Ukraine_."'

'Er...'

'Just Ukraine.'

Ron nodded. 'Sure. Just Ukraine.'

'What you need?'

'A book on potions...' said Ron carefully.

'Come on.' The witch walked around the front desk and towards the back of the store. 'What type potions? Love potion? Strength potion? Dark potion?'

'Er, Dark potions.'

The witch turned her head to look at Ron, but kept walking. 'You no look like Dark wizard.'

'It's a project,' he lied, 'for school.'

'You still in school?' The witched stopped. 'Potion section there. You find every potion, very Dark potions book at end.'

'Er, how would I find restricted books?'

'Restricted?'

Ron nodded. 'Books that have potions that have been made illegal?'

The witched laughed. 'Nothing restricted in Ukraine! Everything legal! Here you find book that England not have. Here we have everything. You need, we have.'

Ron nodded. 'Okay.'

'Ukraine greatest country. Everything available in Ukraine. Nothing restricted. You come tell me if we not have book you want, okay?'

Ron nodded again. He watched the young witch walk away. Turning to the long row of books, he sighed. He was doing this for Hermione, and while he didn't mind looking through book after book for something that might help her, he couldn't help but feel a tad disgruntled. He just hoped that he could find something here, and in the other countries the team travelled. He wanted to use the books as a peace offering.

His eyes lingered on a bright pink book. _Love Potions for the Loveless_. Was he loveless? He loved Hermione. It wasn't something that he had to ponder about. He _knew_ he loved her. He knew it was right. Not being with her seemed like the most absurd idea in the world. How could he _not_ be with her for the rest of his life? She was it for him.

He pulled out a leather-bound book with a blank spine. It seemed to ooze Dark magic. The table of contents was long and in a foreign language. Ron had to get the young witch to translate for him, but one of the potions was an essence-taking potion – different from the one Hermione used, but similar enough that Ron purchased the book.

On the way back to the inn where the team was staying, Ron wondered if this would help get Hermione back. He needed her back. This was just a bump in the road. This was _not_ the end. He refused to accept it as the end.

As he opened up the door to the front entrance of the inn, Ron had to rub away a threatening tear from his eye.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX

A/N: Next chapter, Ron and Hermione's row will start to make sense.


	10. Explanations and Amends Made

A/N: Thanks to my beta, doraemon, and to everyone who has reviewed so far.

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**Chapter Ten: Explanations and Amends Made**

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On the desk in front of Hermione, bits of parchment were strewn everywhere. All of the writing seemed to blend together. Between researching the extent of essences, trying to find a connection between all of the missing persons, and agonising over her fight with Ron, Hermione was hardly getting any sleep.

He'd been gone for exactly two weeks. He'd sent a couple of owls via foreign owls, but Hermione didn't have the energy to write him back. Was it over?

'Did you figure it out yet?' Mulciber asked, coming up behind Hermione.

'No,' she said, turning around in her chair. 'The thing is... I can't find a potion that will _guarantee _that an essence will be fully destroyed. If we simply kill McDougal, then his essence could escape and it would be a vicious cycle. I don't think we should kill him, though, and I don't like researching the most effective ways to do that. We should put him in prison.'

'Azkaban isn't an option. The Dementors are now rogue. None of them are on our side anymore. I've asked someone else to help with you the essences research. I want you to focus on these missing persons.'

'Isn't the Magical Law Enforcement Department doing that?'

'This is for the Order!' whispered Mulciber sharply. 'Not everyone in that department is trustworthy. I'd rather find out what the connection between all of the personnel is, and then perhaps we can figure out who would be next. Do that. No, I'll help you. Not today, no today you need to go home. It's almost time, anyway. Clear your head and get ready to focus because all you're going to be doing tomorrow is using that brain of yours.'

Hermione nodded. 'Thanks. I'm a bit tired, so I could use the extra rest.'

After gathering her things and straightening up her desk, Hermione left the Ministry. She decided to walk instead of Apparate, needing the fresh air to help clear her head. If she was going to mend things with Ron, then she would have to mend things with Mrs Weasley as well. Unfortunately, Hermione had no idea how to do that.

She went to the alleyway next to her building and Apparated into her living room. Sitting on her sofa was a familiar looking redhead.

XXXXXXX

Ginny liked Luna well enough, but she'd grown close to Rebecca over the summer as they owled back and forth, and during the first month of school when they hung out. She liked having a girl friend to talk with, especially since Hermione had left Hogwarts. What she didn't like was this awkwardness between her and Rebecca. So, gathering up her courage, Ginny went to apologise and discuss what had happened.

As usual, Ginny found Rebecca in the library. She sat down across from the green-eyed girl and took in a deep breath, preparing herself.

'Hi.'

'Hi,' said Rebecca.

'So...'

'I'm working on some Transfiguration stuff – what do you need?'

'To apologise. For getting upset a couple weeks ago over what you said about Harry.'

Rebecca shrugged. 'It was just an opinion, but I suppose it was insensitive of me.'

Ginny nodded. 'I think it might be true, though. That's why I was so upset. What if I ruined everything with Harry because I was a bitch? I was so caught up with how _I _felt, I didn't really stop to think about how Harry felt. Stupid, that.'

Rebecca sniggered. 'Right you are.'

'How come you knew all that and I didn't?'

'Ever notice how I don't talk about myself much? I rather like sitting back and watching everyone else. It's a form of entertainment, really, watching other people fret over rumours... talk about each other behind their backs... screw-up their relationships...' Rebecca raised her eyebrows at the last bit.

'Why didn't you say anything?'

'Do you think you would have listened if I'd owled you back over the summer and told you to shut it?'

'Probably not,' said Ginny, shaking her head. 'I feel like a fool.'

'You shouldn't. You're only human.'

'I suppose... I can't help but think that if I hadn't been so mean to Harry, whether we'd be together.'

'He's a professor, so I doubt it.'

'Well... he asked me if I would wait for him. He wanted me to wait until the end of the school year when I would no longer be his student. And I told him _no_.'

'Yep, it's all your fault.'

Ginny frowned.

'So, are you still in love with him?' asked Rebecca.

'I don't know,' whispered Ginny.

'Well, you've been snogging Stebbins all over the castle this week so you better decide one way or another before Stebbins starts thinking of you as his girlfriend.'

'I think he does, but he hasn't asked me to be his girl or anything yet.'

'Don't toy with him, Ginny,' warned Rebecca.

'I won't. I fancy him, I do, and as I fall asleep at night I think about kissing him and seeing him the next day. I don't think about doing those things with Harry anymore.'

Rebecca didn't comment; she stared at Ginny until Ginny looked away, her eyes roaming over the stacks of books in the library. What Ginny said was true; she _did_ fancy Stebbins, but she wasn't sure she could give her heart to him like she had with Harry.

'Look,' said Rebecca finally, 'as long as you know what you want and no one gets hurt.'

Ginny nodded. 'Right. Hey, look,' she said, nodding towards the door to the library, 'it's Stebbins.'

Stebbins smiled and walked over to their table. Ginny's heart skipped a beat – a good skip.

'Quidditch practise was _brutal_ today.'

'I'm sorry,' said Ginny.

'Want to take a walk with me before curfews?'

Ginny nodded. 'Sure. I'll see you later, 'Becca.'

'Have fun.' Rebecca bent back over her schoolbooks. She certainly spent a lot of time in the library, Ginny thought. But she wanted to be Head Girl, and being in her house – either dormitory or common room – was never pleasant since all the Slytherins knew she wasn't a pure-blood.

Stebbins took Ginny's hand in his as they left the library.

XXXXXXX

'What're you doing here?' demanded Hermione. 'You're not supposed to get back for two more days.'

Ron swallowed. Apparently she was still mad. Shite.

'I wanted to see you,' he said quietly. 'I... the game in Sicily was this morning, but we caught the Snitch in eleven minutes. The rest of the team stayed there. Sicilian wizards have _really_ good food—'

'Ron.'

'—but I gave up the food to come back here,' Ron said, trying to lighten the mood.

'All right.' Hermione took off her coat and folded it over the arm of her sofa. She went into her kitchen; Ron followed.

'I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to give you back this.' He held out the ring.

Hermione looked at the ring but made no motion towards it. Instead, she got a glass and filled it with pumpkin juice. She took a sip, looked at Ron over the edge of the glass, swallowed, and said, 'What do you want to talk about?'

'The row we had.'

'I'd say it was more than a row.'

'Right. The catastrophic blow-out.'

'Catastrophic?'

'You're not the only one who knows big words.'

Hermione looked as if she was struggling not to roll her eyes. Ron watched her eyes travel from his face over to the table in the dining area. He'd put the stack of books he got from various bookstores and libraries while he was on his Quidditch tour.

'What're those?'

'I don't know if they'll help, but a lot of them are books on Dark potions and wizards – books that the British Ministry has restricted, but they're legal in some of the countries I went to.' Ron went over to the table. He picked up the book he got in Ukraine. 'This one is from Ukraine. It's not in English, but I was told there are enchanted quills you can buy that will translate for you? I didn't know where to find one; I figured you did.'

'You did research for me?'

'Er, I didn't rightly know what you were looking for, really. I picked up any book that I thought might help you. I figured if you found out about how to destroy essences and all that then perhaps you'd stop being so hard on yourself. None of this is your fault.'

Hermione didn't respond. She kept staring at the books. The palms of Ron's hands turned sweaty and he wiped them on the legs of his trousers. Gathering a bit of daring, Ron took a step towards Hermione. When she didn't step back, he continued to close the distance between them. Only a few centimetres away from her, Ron again tried to offer the ring to Hermione. He wasn't expecting her to start crying, but two tears fell down her cheeks.

'Hermione?'

'I'm sorry, Ron,' she whispered.

'Sorry? For what?' Hermione didn't answer, but Ron refused to leave things at that; he didn't want another row; he wanted answers and he wanted his fiancée back. 'Hermione, sorry for what? Sorry for our fight? Sorry you accepted my proposal? Sorry you can't take back the ring? Sorry for _what_!'

'Sorry... for our fight.'

Ron sighed in relief. 'Hermione, what was our row about? I know we bicker all the time, but this seemed out of the blue.'

'I suppose I blew things out of proportion.'

Ron knew better than to agree with her on that. 'So, what happened?'

'Your mother made me angry.'

'That's an understatement, that is.'

Hermione shrugged. 'You told me you'd wait for me. You told me you understood that I wanted to do things the Muggle way. And your mother wants everything to be her business... I just snapped.'

'Hermione. Wanting things the Muggle way shouldn't have got you so upset. There's something else isn't there? What is it?' Ron pressed.

'I don't want to talk about.'

'_You_ don't want to talk about it? You always want to talk about everything! If you don't want to marry me, just say so.'

'It's not like that.'

'Then tell me what it's like.'

Hermione visibly swallowed and looked away. She sniffed. 'I just have a lot going on.'

'I know. I do, too. I'm travelling all the time with the Quidditch team. I'm constantly thinking about you – worrying that you're working too hard – and... well... I've been stressing about my dad. I'm so bloody worried about him that I can't sleep.'

Hermione let out a small squeak.

'Not that I blame you! I know you blame yourself for not knowing about the essence... but my dad being missing isn't your fault. I love my family, especially my dad.'

More tears fell down Hermione's cheeks.

'Don't cry,' said Ron softly. 'I already said, it's not your fault.'

Hermione's eyes snapped to Ron's. 'Not my fault? _Not my fault?_ Is that why you think I'm crying?' Hermione pushed Ron's shoulders. 'You don't understand _anything_, do you?' She pushed him again; his back hit the wall behind him. 'Your father is _missing_. Mine's _dead_. My fantasy Muggle wedding will _never_ happen because I don't have a father to walk me down the aisle. Don't you get it? Muggle tradition – everyone in a church, the music plays, and the father walks his daughter down the aisle and gives her to her fiancé. Who's supposed to give me away, huh? Who's supposed to walk me down the aisle? I don't _have_ a dad to do that! I don't – ohh, God...'

Ron watched Hermione sink to her knees, her shoulders shaking, her fingers covering her flooding eyes. It took him a moment to respond, but he recovered and bent down. He pulled Hermione to him; she pushed against him, but he wouldn't let her get away. His arms held her tight against his chest until she stopped struggling. He loosened his grip as she sank against her, sobs rippling through her body violently as she shed tears for her father and the lost dream of a little girl's perfect fantasy wedding.

XXXXXXX

They went to the third-floor corridor. Ginny knew it was still abandoned and off-limits for students. Ron told her stories about a three-headed dog that lived on the floor, but Ginny was never sure if she believed him. She briefly thought about it as Stebbins led her to a corner of the corridor. The thought of the three-headed dog was replaced by a fragment of memory about Harry – how they had come to this very corridor a couple of times when they were dating. But when Stebbins' lips connected with hers, all thoughts fled her brain.

His lips were always soft and his tongue always tasted a bit like toothpaste – as if he just came from brushing his teeth, making sure his breath was fresh in case he was going to kiss someone. Ginny moaned into his mouth, which seemed to urge Stebbins on. For the first time his hands left her back and travelled to her front. His fingers played with the hem of her jumper before drifting up and cupping her. Ginny arched into him, to more completely fill his hand.

When his hands disappeared from her breasts, only to find their way underneath her jumper, Ginny pulled back.

'Wait,' she said breathily.

'Too fast?' Stebbins winced. 'I'm sorry, I know you said you wanted to go slow—'

'That's not it,' said Ginny. 'It's just...'

'What? If you don't want me to touch you, I won't.'

'You don't always have to be so agreeable.'

'I just don't want my girlfriend getting hacked off at me is all,' said Stebbins. 'Not over something physical.'

'Funny, that – I don't recall agreeing to be your girlfriend.'

Stebbins paled and Ginny felt a bit sorry for him, especially when he began to sputter.

'I – I... Er, I just assumed – I mean, that – well...'

'I didn't say I didn't _want_ to be. I was just pointing out that you never asked.'

Stebbins sighed. 'Oh, well in that case. Ahem. Gin, will you be my girlfriend?'

Ginny nodded. 'Sure, since you asked me so nicely.'

Stebbins smiled brightly. 'Phew! You had me worried there for a moment.'

'Stop talking and kiss me, please.'

'Ah, that I can do.'

Stebbins leaned back in, and Ginny watched him with open eyes. She closed them when Stebbins wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. She allowed him to kiss her neck; it felt as though he was feasting upon it. Her hands wandered a little bit, but everything came to a halt when she heard someone clear their throat. Stebbins must have heard it as well, as he flew quickly away from Ginny as though she had just burnt him unexpectedly.

'Why am I not surprised to be catching the two of you once again?'

Ginny groaned. Harry. Why was it always Harry?

'Another twenty points from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor.'

'You're just like Snape, goddamn it!' cried Ginny.

'Excuse me?'

Ginny felt herself enter dangerous territory. Her brain threw her warnings, but she didn't pay attention to them. Caution: Retreat! Retreat! Do not speak of Snape in presence of Defence professor!

'Taking away house points,' explained Ginny. 'If you caught anyone else snogging you wouldn't take away so many points, but you don't like me kissing Stebbins so you're docking our points!'

'You're the only couple I've found being lewd in parts of the castle that are _off-limits_.'

'You didn't care that they were off-limits last year!' cried Ginny.

'Ginny – I'm a _professor_. If I don't do my job and punish when punishment is required, I could lose my job. In case you've forgotten, I didn't make it into the Auror program. I _need_ this job. McGonagall is strict. If she sees me playing favourites... she's strict,' Harry reaffirmed. 'It has nothing to do with you kissing anyone!'

'Yeah, right.'

'If I had it out for you or Stebbins, do you think he would be at the top of my class?'

Ginny rolled her eyes.

'You're a brat,' said Harry. 'My world no longer revolves around you, so unless you want me to dock another twenty points, get back to parts of the castle that aren't restricted.'

Harry turned and began to walk away.

'Your world never revolved around me.'

Harry stopped walking. 'It did. Once,' he said without turning around. He continued walking until he was out of the third-floor corridor.

XXXXXXX

Rebecca woke up with a start. She was safe inside the curtains of her four-poster bed in the Slytherin dormitory. What had she dreamt about? Ohh. Right.

It began as a normal dream, until Draco invaded it. He always did that – came into her dreams and became the centre of attention, doing bawdy and very Draco-like things to her.

In this particular dream, Draco had made her dive into the Hogwarts' lake and find the Giant Squid. She swam around it, trying to figure out how to get the creature to emit some of its black ink. It evaded her, but she kept at it, until, somehow, it squirted her. She gathered the ink in a vial that she, of course, just happened to have in her pocket, and brought it to Draco.

'Ah, wonderful,' he said to her.

She bowed. She didn't look at him as he undressed her. His trousers, pants, and shirt fell on the floor. She looked at his feet – long and pale with blonde hair all around the ankles. Draco took the vial away from her and opened it up.

'This,' he said, 'is a really good lubricant.' He poured the black ink on his hands. Rebecca chanced looking at his face; his eyes were dancing wildly as he rubbed the ink between his fingers, allowing his hands to trail down his abdomen, covering himself with the ink. 'Ready?'

At that, Rebecca woke up. She was disgusted and confused and... aroused? What... the... fuck..? Knowing that Draco would probably find the whole thing amusing, she got out of bed, went to her desk, and began to write him a letter.

XXXXXXX

Late that night, Harry woke up to a banging at his office door. He walked through his room to his office, went past his desk to the door that led to the classroom. Ginny was on the other side of the door, and Harry groaned.

'You shouldn't be here. Get back to your dormitory and I'll have to dock more house points, Gin.'

'Am I really a brat?'

Harry blinked. 'Yes.'

'Really?'

'Yes. I thought we had become friends. I let you come here for several nights when you were upset about your dad being missing, but now... you're just a brat. You _can't_ just snog wherever you want to. As a professor I have to give out equal punishment to everyone.'

Ginny sighed. 'I know. I'm sorry. I'm just really confused and I think I've been taking it out on you.'

Harry nodded. 'I noticed that. I think you need to just avoid me except in class. Your boyfriend won't like it if he finds out you're here.'

Ginny looked away from him.

'He _is_ your boyfriend, isn't he?'

Ginny nodded.

'Right, then. Go back to Gryffindor Tower, Gin.' Harry made to close the door, but Ginny stopped him.

'D'you... d'you still love me?'

Harry swallowed. When he went to bed he didn't think he would be standing here answering questions like this. It was too much.

'Go back to bed.'

'Harry. Please.'

Harry looked at her – red hair, brown eyes, fair skin... she was so pretty. 'Does it matter?'

'Yes.'

'You have a boyfriend and I'm a professor; it shouldn't matter. Whatever I say, you're still with Stebbins and I'm still your Defence teacher.'

Ginny looked away from him again.

'Do you even fancy Stebbins?'

'Yes. I like him. Honest.'

'Then why do you care about whether or not I love you?'

'Because I just do.'

'Gin – stop this.'

Ginny took a step forward, grabbed the back of his neck, and kissed him on the mouth. It took Harry a couple of seconds to register what was going on. He pushed Ginny away.

'You could get me sacked!' he snapped. 'You have a boyfriend. Stop playing these games! You're going to end up hurting me, Stebbins, and yourself in the process. You need help, to talk to someone. Owl Hermione; she's always been good at figuring out these sorts of things, but no more games.'

'I just wanted to see if you would still kiss me like you used to. I could always feel how much you loved me when you kissed me.'

'Gin! _Stop_. Get back to the tower _now_ or I'm giving you detention.'

'But—'

'No. Good night.' Harry shut the door and leaned against it, listening to Ginny's retreating footsteps. He had no idea what had just happened, but he knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep well tonight.

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To Be Continued...

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A/N: Let me respond to some reviews.

Why is it taking me so long between updates? I just had a baby. He's only 2 months old. He takes up the vast majority of my time, so please be patient with me. I don't mind criticism in my reviews, but if you're going to be crappy about the time between updates then don't leave a review about that. Babies are a lot of work and very tiring. I don't get much sleep, so I feel like I'm doing well to still write as much as I do when my life is consumed by my son. That wasn't mean to sound mean, so hopefully anyone who thinks it takes me too long to update will understand.

No, Hermione is not pregnant.

Make the chapters longer? I don't want them to be _too_ long and get boring.

Okay, that is all. Cheers!


	11. Connections and Favours

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**Chapter Eleven: Connections and Favours**

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'Why haven't you been in Defence class?' Colin asked Ginny about a week later at dinner. 'You've missed all three classes this week.'

Ginny nodded. 'I know. Harry and I had a fight. I've helped defeat Voldemort, so I don't think missing a few Defence classes is going to hurt me.'

Colin looked around the Great Hall as if making sure no one was listening, and leaned in closer to Ginny. 'What was the fight about?'

Ginny shrugged and stuffed another forkful of roasted potatoes in her mouth.

'Gin... you can tell me. Who am I going to tell anyway?'

'No one else knows; I'd like to keep it that way.'

'You didn't tell Stebbins?'

'No.'

'But he's your boyfriend.'

'So?' said Ginny. 'I just told him Harry hacked me off when he took house points from me for kissing him.'

'Kissing who?'

'Stebbins. Didn't I tell you?' When Colin shook his head, Ginny told him the story of Harry catching her and Stebbins snogging in the third-floor corridor.

'What was he doing there? I suppose it's not forbidden for professors.'

Ginny shrugged. 'I don't know. He and I used to go there all the time last year to be alone.'

Colin raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat. 'So, the fight _wasn't_ about Harry taking away house points?'

'I don't know.'

Colin sat back. 'What's going on with you? Harry shouldn't be bothering you this much. Stebbins is your boyfriend – he's the one you should be focusing on, not Harry.'

'I _know_.'

'You're my friend, Ginny, but so is Stebbins. Don't hurt him.'

'I'm not going to,' whispered Ginny, looking down at her food. 'Harry was such a part of my life for so long... it's hard to forget him. And it bothers me that he hasn't moved on with his life.'

'How do you know he hasn't?'

'That's what our fight was about... I wanted to know if he was still in love with me.'

'Gin!' Colin cried in an extremely exasperated tone. 'Why would you do that? If you're not still in love with Harry, why do you care if he's still in love with you?'

'Because! If he's still in love with me, then it's all the more understandable why he keeps taking house points away from us.'

'If you stopped snogging your boyfriend then Harry _wouldn't_ take house points.' Colin smiled mischievously. 'What you need is a better place to snog.'

'Oh? And you know of one?'

'Absolutely.'

'And just _who_ have _you_ been kissing, Colin?'

'Can't tell you that.'

Ginny rolled her eyes.

'Look, Gin, you do like Stebbins, don't you?'

Ginny nodded.

'Okay, good. 'Cause he _really_ fancies you.'

'I know. Between you and Rebecca, I feel that all I've been doing is talking about whether or not I like Stebbins. Harry was the first boy I've ever really loved. I doubt anyone ever forgets about their first love.'

'No...' he whispered. 'Never.' Colin's eyes flew around to all the tables in the Great Hall, but Ginny knew it was because he was trying to avoid looking at one particular table.

The teachers' table.

XXXXXXX

Ron Apparated to Hermione's flat the following Saturday. He hadn't seen her in four days – not by choice, either. Hermione owled him, claiming she had caught a break in finding more about the missing Ministry personnel. She was still healing from her breakdown, and while Ron wanted to help her, he didn't want to invade the space she said she needed.

'You two better not break up,' Bill had said to him earlier at The Burrow.

'We're not going to do that.'

'Good, because I don't think anyone else could handle Hermione the way you handle her.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Ron demanded.

'Her temper. _Your_ temper. You two are perfect for one another.'

'They deserve one another, is what you mean,' Charlie said from his seat at the kitchen table where he was buttering up a piece of bread.

'Well, she's my only,' mumbled Ron. 'You know, Weasley tradition and all.'

'What are you talking about?' Bill asked, confusion written all over his face.

'My only, my – ohh, hell.' Ron cleared his throat. 'Remember when you two were home the summer before I was a fourth-year and you told me all about the birds and the bees? That all Weasleys choose one person to, y'know, havesexwith, and that's it for them?'

Bill and Charlie exchanged looks.

'Well... Hermione's my only, so we _can't_ break up.'

Charlie snorted. 'You believed us? You're more gullible than I had imagined.'

'What're you on about?' Ron snapped.

'That's just something Charlie and I concocted,' said Bill. 'We thought it would be better for our younger brothers not to make the same mistakes we made when we were at Hogwarts. If you lot believed that all Weasleys only had sex with one girl – or boy in Ginny's case – then perhaps you wouldn't go about being the lotharios Charlie and I were.'

Ron's mouth hung open. He tried to close it, but it wouldn't go. 'Are you serious?'

Charlie nodded. 'Yeah. What? You thought I was a twenty-five-year-old _virgin_ when I got married?'

'Well – no, but—'

'And when I met Fleur? You really thought she was the only girl I'd ever slept with?'

'Well, I—'

'We didn't want you making our mistakes,' mumbled Charlie.

'What mistakes?' asked Ron.

'He means Tonks,' said Bill.

'Tonks? Tonks that's married to Lupin? That Tonks?'

Charlie nodded. He got up and walked out of the kitchen door and into the back garden. Ron felt confused. His brothers had lied to him? But... he'd made it clear to Hermione that she was the only girl he ever wanted to have sex with, and it was partly because of what he'd been told. His words didn't feel as significant now that he knew his brothers had lied to him.

'Dad only ever slept with Mum,' said Bill.

'Oi! I don't want to hear about Mum and Dad. When was Charlie involved with Tonks?'

'While they were at Hogwarts – before Charlie began dating Gina... and when Charlie and Gina broke up he and Tonks got back together when they were both twenty... but Tonks decided to become an Auror and...' Bill trailed off. He glanced at the back door. 'And they broke up again, and Charlie went back to Gina.' Bill coughed. 'Anyway, it doesn't matter. Don't be sore that we lied to you – we thought it would be for your own good. Aren't you happy that you've only been with Hermione and haven't fucked a bunch of girls?'

Ron frowned. 'Yes, but—'

'That's all that matters, then.' Bill checked his watch. 'Ah, there's an Order meeting at half eight. Is Hermione going?'

'Dunno.'

'Well, you should go and find out. Mum said you hadn't seen her in a few days.'

'Is that a hint that you want me gone?'

'Yes.'

Ron shrugged. 'All right, then.'

So now, here he was, at Hermione's flat. He listened, but everything seemed quiet. Then suddenly, he heard a harsh laugh. It was coming from down the hall, from Hermione's study. Ron walked towards the room and stood in the doorway.

Hermione was sitting at her desk, wearing one of Ron's old jumpers from third year that his mum made for Christmas. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, tied with a blue ribbon. The harsh laugh hadn't come from her; it had come from the man standing next to her, hunched over the desk with square shoulders and severely short, dark hair.

'Hermione?' said Ron quietly.

She whirled around in her chair. Her face was lighter and softer than the last time he'd seen her. She looked _almost_ happy.

'What're you two doing?'

'Ah, Hair-my-on-knee vas showing me her vork.'

Ron raised his eyebrows.

'Mulciber asked me to get a second, outside opinion, on the connection between all of the missing personnel,' explained Hermione.

'Why didn't you ask me?' said Ron, feeling hurt. 'Why did it have to be _him_?' As much as Ron knew that Hermione and Viktor were just friends, he couldn't help but begin to feel betrayed that Hermione had enlisted Viktor's help when Ron was supposed to be her fiancé.

'Your father's one of the ones missing. I needed someone objective. Viktor seemed like a good choice. You're not angry, are you?' Hermione stood up from her chair. 'Because I found it.'

'You found it?'

'The connection. Now we can protect anyone who might be a target again. We can use this information to try and find your father.'

Ron blinked.

'I think I vill be going. I can be telling Mulciber about your findings at the Order meeting for you, yes? I am thinking that I vill go and see vot is going on. I vant to help against McDoog.'

'McDougal,' corrected Hermione.

Viktor nodded. 'It vos nice seeing you again, Ron.' With that, Viktor Disapparated.

Ron stared silently at Hermione. She wrung her hands together nervously and wiped them on the fronts of her jeans. She wet her lips and appeared to be waiting for Ron to break the silence.

'Say something,' she whispered.

'What's the connection?'

'They're all either Muggle-born or have a Muggle relative,' said Hermione. 'It was hard to see because some of these Muggle relatives are very distant. Like, fifth and sixth cousins. There hasn't been one fully pureblood witch or wizard to go missing yet. I realised what it was when I remembered that you had a cousin who's an accountant.'

'Yeah, but we never talk about him. How would anyone know that Dad's related to an accountant?'

Hermione shrugged. 'That's what took me so long the past few days. I had to get the family trees of everyone who was missing.'

Ron swallowed. This was one step closer to finding his father. He felt like crying out of joy and sorrow. He was thrilled that Hermione had found the connection, but it still didn't bring his father home.

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. 'Ron?'

'Yes?'

'I think you have something of mine.'

Ron cocked his head to the side. 'What's that?'

'My ring.'

Ah. Ron pulled the engagement ring out of his pocket and held it in the palm of his hand. Hermione took a few steps towards him.

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I never should have taken it off. I love that ring. I was so horrible to you, and you still went to all those bookstores and got me those books – and Mulciber has been using them as well and he thinks some of them are mighty helpful. I missed you the past couple of days.'

'You told me not to come over.'

'I still felt like a mess. I didn't want to breakdown like I did in front of you.'

'Hermione... if we're going to get married we're going to see those sides of one another. I'd rather have you breakdown in front of me than by yourself – or worse, in front of that git Vicky.'

Hermione rolled her eyes, but smiled. 'Ron? I love you and I'm sorry. So very, very sorry.'

'It's all right.' He stepped closer to Hermione, grabbed her hand, and slowly pushed the ring back onto her finger. 'Just don't ever do that again. I don't think I could take it if I didn't think you were going to marry me again. Thinking it the first time was bad enough.'

'I won't. I promise.'

'You're my only,' said Ron. 'That's the way it's gotta be.'

Hermione didn't have to know about the lies his brothers told him; it was true for them. Hermione was the only girl for Ron; he knew he would never be able to be with anyone else.

'Er, Hermione? I just thought of something: if by figuring out what the connection is between the missing personnel... how will that help find my father?'

Hermione bit her lip again. 'Um... You're not going to like it.'

'I'm not? Why? Just tell me.'

'Er...'

'Hermione! Tell me!' Ron grabbed her shoulders. 'Please?'

Hermione nodded. 'Since we know that Muggle-borns and anyone related to a Muggle has been taken, then with the help of the Order spies in the Ministry, we can try to set it up so that a specific witch – or wizard – is taken. Of course since they know that they'll be taken, they can prepare in advance a way to contact someone as to their whereabouts. Then, the Magical Law Enforcement teams can come in and rescue all of us.'

'All of us? _Us_, did you say? Hermione! You are _not_ thinking of doing this, are you?'

'It was just a plan I came up with when Viktor was over.'

'Oh, I'm sure _Vicky_ doesn't care if you go off sacrificing yourself!'

'Stop calling him Vicky!'

'Hermione, you are _not_ going to do that! What if you're killed?'

'What if your father dies because I _don't_?' Hermione shot back.

Ron dropped his hands away from Hermione's shoulders. 'The sad truth is I can live without my father. I can't live without you.'

XXXXXXX

Harry took a long drink from his water bottle. Having begun DA meetings the week before, Harry realised how tired he was. His dreams were no longer invaded by Voldemort, but only because insomnia had taken over instead. Every night he'd lie in bed until one or two o'clock before groaning, throwing his pillow across his room, and grabbing his Firebolt and heading outside to fly around the grounds. He tried running around the pitch once instead of flying, but he found the wind in his face therapeutic and a good way to clear his mind of unwanted thoughts.

He preferred insomnia over the types of dreams Voldemort used to send to him, but in order to function and make it through his classes, he had grown prone to filling up an old Muggle water bottle with coffee and charming it to stay hot throughout the day. Between teaching seven different Defence classes, overseeing the DA (which had turned into more of a social club than a useful extracurricular), and keeping up with Head of House duties, Harry was about to collapse.

His old, trusty Marauder's Map showed Ginny and Stebbins far away from the third-floor corridor. He climbed the staircases to it, and made his way into the far corner, passing the doorway that once led to Fluffy's hiding place and the Philosopher's Stone.

He slunk down on the floor, drinking the last of his coffee from his water bottle. He shut his eyes tightly and held his breath. If there was one thing Harry Potter refused to do it was cry. He'd cried in the past – over Voldemort, over Ginny, over Sirius, over his parents – but no more. He wasn't that weak little boy any longer.

Why he came to the third-floor corridor, he never could figure out. It reminded him so much of Ginny, how they used to sneak up here to talk and kiss and touch. When she kissed him the other day, he wanted to kiss her back. He wanted to feel her like he used to feel her, and be with her the way he used to be with her. But he couldn't. She was with Stebbins and he was a professor.

This is where they used to come, and it still held many memories for Harry. It was a place where he felt as though some part of him was still with Ginny – and if he couldn't have her in real life, then at least he could still have her in memory.

XXXXXXX

Rebecca walked down the stairs from her dormitory and sat on the green sofa in the Slytherin common room. She was going crazy – absolutely and positively barmy. She had another one of _those_ dreams. It was nice. At first.

Draco snuck into the girls' dormitory.

'What're you doing here? How'd you get up the stairs?'

'Shh.' Draco waved his wand and all of Rebecca's clothes left her body and neatly folded themselves on top of her desk. His eyes travelled down her body. 'You look cold. I have more giant squid ink. Shall we try it?'

Rebecca shook her head. 'I didn't like it. It was too sticky.'

'I can make you sticky all right,' said Draco huskily. He pushed Rebecca back on the bed and hovered over her. 'I can taunt your nipples all night long.'

'_What_?'

'Tell them jokes, make you laugh so hard they'll jiggle for me.' He flicked one of them.

'Ouch,' whispered Rebecca severely.

'Ouch? _Ouch_? I can make you hurt much more than that, Rebecca.' Draco pushed Rebecca's head to the side. He licked her neck and bit the exposed flesh. His teeth didn't break the skin, but he laughed throatily. 'Do you want me to do it? Do you want me to bite you?' He lifted his head and smoothed back his white-blonde hair. 'Do you want it rough? We can role play. I can be the vampire and you can be my prey. Does that turn you on?'

And again, before the dream ventured into dangerous territory, Rebecca woke up. The sex she had with Draco had never been typical. Sometimes it hurt, but it wasn't sadistic. It wasn't sick. It was _weird_.

_I'm going mental_, Rebecca thought. She felt as if someone was sending her the dreams. Surely she was not capable of dreaming such things? _Right mental, that's what_.

She sighed and opened up her Transfiguration book. If she was going to stay awake, she might as well study.

XXXXXXX

Harry looked down at the small piece of parchment in his hand.

_the 3 broomsticks at noon_

The handwriting was small and cramped and Harry thought he recognised it, but didn't want to be too hopeful. Hogsmeade was always slow on Sundays, and Harry was reminded of this fact as he pulled his cloak more tightly around him and fought his way against the harsh wind through the empty streets.

Once inside the pub, he sat at the bar and took off his cloak. It wasn't a school day and he had loads of time before he would have to get back to the castle. So with no classes to teach and no students around, Harry decided to have himself a drink.

'I'll take some Firewhisky, Rosmerta,' said Harry.

The big-busted woman nodded and poured from a brand new bottle of Ogden's finest. Harry looked at it and downed the whisky in one swift gulp. He closed his eyes and willed himself not to make a face as the fiery liquid lit his throat on fire.

The door to the pub opened and the wind could be heard howling outside as the new customer entered. The sounds of the wind became mute again when he shut the door back.

'It's bloody _freezing_ out there!'

Harry turned towards the newcomer as Rosmerta filled his glass up again. His jaw became slack and fell open.

'_You_ wrote me that note?'

'Yeah. I'm glad you came. I was kind of worried you wouldn't come if I signed it... and I was kind of worried you wouldn't come if I didn't sign it. I took my chances. We need to talk.'

'About what?'

'Let's sit at one of the tables. Madam Rosmerta? Give us a bottle of Firewhisky. I'll pay.'

Harry walked over to one of the tables by the window. He sat with his glass in hand and downed the Firewhisky in it. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

'Why'd you ask me here?' asked Harry when the other man sat down with a full bottle of Firewhisky.

'I, er, need a favour.'

Harry raised his eyebrows. 'A favour? Anything. Now, what do you need, Ron?'

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX


	12. Propositions and New Faces

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Twelve: Propositions and New Faces**

XXXXXXX

Ron took a deep breath. 'Well, I assume Hermione's been writing you?'

Harry nodded. 'Yeah. She told me about the engagement.'

Ron's face turned bright red.

'When's the big day?' Harry hadn't asked Hermione before in any of his letters to her; he was afraid to know, afraid that he might not be invited.

'I dunno. Hermione... she... well, she wants a Muggle wedding, but her parents are dead, and she said that dads always give their daughters away at weddings.'

Harry nodded. 'Yeah. Are wizard weddings different?'

'Yeah, no one "gives" anyone away.'

'And Hermione is having an issue with that?'

Ron sighed loudly and nodded. He rubbed his eyes. 'I haven't brought it up – making a date, I mean – since she told me about her dad... and how it wouldn't be the same without him there. I'm not sure what to do about it, really.'

'Why don't you elope? Parents aren't present at elopements.'

'Excuse me?'

'Don't people in the wizard world elope?'

'Of course they do.'

Harry shrugged. 'Well then?'

'I dunno.'

'You didn't come here to talk about you and Hermione, did you?'

Ron shook his head. 'No. Well, yes. Sort of.'

'Which is it?'

'I dunno.' Ron sighed.

'Are you still angry with me?'

'No... Hermione explained things to me; y'know how Hermione explains things. She's bloody observant and knows just about everything. Well, I stopped being mad a while back, but... y'know... I didn't know how to tell you that we could... that I wasn't...'

'That you weren't mad anymore and we could be mates again?'

Ron nodded.

Harry smirked. 'Well, for whatever it's worth, I'm sorry.'

'Yeah, I heard you were. D'you talk to Gin?'

Harry's heart skipped a beat. 'Um, a bit. She's in my NEWT Defence class, but she skips it regularly. She – well, perhaps I shouldn't talk about it.'

'Gin and I don't really owl much, so it's not like I'm gonna tell her what you say. I think she writes to Hermione some. I know she's got a new boyfriend or something. Some git named Stebbins.'

'Yeah. David Stebbins.'

'What the fuck kind of name is _Stebbins_ anyway? Sounds like a git name to me.'

'Big git name.'

'He better keep his hands to himself,' said Ron dangerously.

'Like I did?'

Ron gaped; Harry sniggered.

'I've caught them snogging around the castle a couple of times. I've docked house points for it.'

'You docked points from your own house?'

'Well, I couldn't just take points away from Hufflepuff and not from Gryffindor. It'd make me feel too much like Snape.'

'He's in Hufflepuff? What kind of house is Hufflepuff anyway?'

'A git house?' offered Harry.

Ron nodded. 'Definitely.'

'So we're mates again, then, yeah?'

'Yeah, always.'

Harry shifted. This was as close as he and Ron ever had to a heart-to-heart.

'You haven't gone to any Order meetings,' said Ron, changing the subject.

'What?' The way Ron could just switch gears so quickly could give someone whiplash, Harry thought. 'The Order? No. McGonagall says she needs me at the school, which I figure is true. If all the members of the Order went to meetings, Trelawney and Filch would be the only ones left at there. But she tells me what happens in the meetings.'

'Has she told you that Hermione found out about the missing people from the Ministry?'

'Well, she said that Hermione found a link between them, but that they're still somewhere and no one knows where.'

'That's true.'

'What was the link?'

'Muggles. They're either married to a Muggle, Muggle-born, half-Muggle, or have a Muggle relative somewhere – we have an accountant somewhere down the line; that's why my dad was taken. The reason I asked you to meet me here was that Hermione's devised this plan...'

'Which is?'

'She thinks that if she makes it known at work that she's trying to get McDougal out of office that he'll choose her next. She's created this... charm... I mean, she really is the cleverest witch I've ever met.'

'What's the charm?'

'It's a locating charm. As long as she keeps it on, then we can find her within ten feet of her actual location.'

'And she can do the charm?' asked Harry.

'She did a Protean Charm in fifth year,' said Ron, 'so I think she can do this charm.'

'What do you want me to do?'

'I want you to use the charm instead of her.'

Harry let out a low whistle. 'That's a tall order, Ron.'

'I know, but I'm desperate. I'll do anything to keep her safe.'

'I understand.'

'Do you?'

'Well, if Stebbins hurt Ginny, I'd be the first one to call him up in class to duel. And he's rubbish at duelling. He's got the theory down, but he's not quick. He won't do too well on his practical Defence NEWT.'

'So you still love her, then?' asked Ron.

Harry looked down at his Firewhisky. He threw it down his throat and grimaced. It did its name justice; it felt just like fire going down.

'Never mind,' said Ron.

'No. I don't even know anymore what's going on with me... us. She's with Stebbins and I'm a Hogwarts professor. It'll never work, not as long as she's a student anyway. She refuses to try to understand what I was going through and I don't think she's actually accepted my apology. She says she's forgiven me, but she doesn't act like she has. I'll be glad when she leaves Hogwarts. She's driving me mad... truly mad.'

'Why?'

'I think she wants me to still love her, but the way she's been acting, I can't. She's not the same girl I went out with last year.'

'That sounds like something Hermione helped you come up with.'

Harry nodded. 'It's true, though.'

'I can't say that I liked what you did to my sister, but Hermione's helped me to understand it. I can't say I forgive you for it, because Gin is my baby sister. I have to be the protective older brother and all that rot.'

'Right.'

'Is she happy with this David Stebbins guy? I don't remember him.'

'I don't know. She seems all right. She hangs out mostly with him, Colin, and Rebecca – who is going to be Head Girl, no doubt. She's got the top marks for both of my sixth-year Defence classes. Slytherins and Ravenclaws in one classroom – a bunch of gits and a bunch of bookworms. It's an interesting class.'

'I'll bet. So Gin's still friendly with Colin, then. He still fancy you?'

'Fuck off, Ron.'

'Well, does he?'

'I've no idea,' said Harry. 'I don't try to think about it. It's all speculation, y'know. We don't _know_ he fancied me in the first place.'

'He was obsessed with you when we went to Hogwarts. Little fellow was always a bit off, really. Strange bloke, Colin.'

No longer wanting to continue on with the line of questioning over Colin, Harry asked, 'How's the Quidditch?'

Ron blushed. Harry restrained from sniggering. Ron never could take praise very well, and Hermione had written gushing letters about how well Ron had been doing.

'It's all right. Good money – I'm not really used to it, but it was nice to actually buy Hermione something without going into debt with the twins. They're right wicked when it comes to repaying debts. They don't charge interest, but they'll make you test out their products for them instead. Last time I lost all my teeth.'

'It has to be fun, though, playing Quidditch all the time. I miss it. Hey, perhaps one day they'll be making action figures of you, and some poor bloke will be ripping it apart because his best friend fancies you instead of him.'

Ron blushed even brighter. 'Shuddup.'

Harry sniggered. He poured both of them another shot of Firewhisky, and then downed it. It hadn't become any easier to drink, yet. Harry figured a few more shots and he wouldn't even know where he was anymore, so the fire in his throat would no longer bother him.

'Anyway, Harry. We haven't spoken in a while, but even if I was still hacked off, I'd put aside any grudge to keep Hermione from getting herself hurt.'

'Ohh, and you'll readily sacrifice me?'

'Yes.'

Harry snorted.

'Don't tell her, but you're better at Defence than she is.'

'She scored higher than I did on all the theory stuff.'

'But you're better at duelling and all that rubbish. Plus... the Killing Curse doesn't work on you.'

'Let's not try to see if that's really true, all right?'

Ron shrugged. 'You're stronger. Plus, it's much more likely that McDougal would take you than Hermione anyway.'

'And just how am I supposed to get chosen in the first place?'

'Come home for the Christmas holiday. Go in with Hermione at work and start asking questions. Make McDougal recognise you and seek you out. Then, we just have to pray that you're taken.'

'I think I need more Firewhisky before I agree to this.'

'Right on, mate.' Ron poured them both another shot, and Harry's head began to feel fuzzy.

XXXXXXX

The following day, Monday, Harry all but fell out of bed. He skipped breakfast, kicking himself for not knowing how to make that brilliant Sober Up Potion. He put on his glasses and realised that even with them on, his vision was still blurry.

'Ohh, fuck me,' he said, holding his head. He knew he never should have drunk all that Firewhisky. That shit was dangerous.

He left his room, walked through his office, walked through his empty classroom, and made his way towards the kitchens. Even if Dobby wasn't there, one of the other house-elves would come to his rescue and give him lots of coffee to fill his water bottle up with, and perhaps some toast and jam.

Harry's stomach lurched at the thought of jam.

_Perhaps just plain toast, then_.

As Harry rounded the corner after climbing down the staircases, he ran smack dab into something hard. He fell backwards, landing right on his backside.

'Shite.'

'Sorry!'

Harry looked up. An extremely familiar-looking blonde was looking down at him with bright blue eyes. He furrowed his brow.

'Are you all right?'

Harry nodded. He looked at the hand the girl extended for a moment before taking it and allowing her to help him up. He brushed the dust off his robes and looked at the girl again.

'You're...'

She smiled. Her teeth were perfect. Her nose was the slightest bit off-centre and her lips were full, but small. Her eyes were beautiful, though, and her hair fell past her shoulders and went half-way down her back in small curls.

'You don't remember my name, do you?'

Harry shook his head. 'Ow.' He rubbed his temples. 'Sorry, I've got myself a bit of a hangover. I might remember it if I wasn't so out of it.'

The girl took out her wand. She waved it over him, muttering an incantation that Harry had never heard before. He felt something warm, almost hot, wash over him, and immediately he began to feel better. It started in the pit of his stomach and exploded out, washing over his whole body until he felt like his normal self.

'Thanks. What was that?'

'A spell my grandfather showed me. He and his brothers were big drinkers back in Germany.'

'Oh. Well, thanks.'

'You already said that.'

Harry felt his face heat up; he hoped he wasn't blushing.

'Mandy.'

'What?'

'That's my name. Mandy Brocklehurst.'

'You were in my year,' said Harry. 'Ravenclaw, yeah?'

Mandy nodded.

'What're you doing here, though?'

'Madam Pince's daughter had triplets. She's going to London to take care of them so that her daughter can go back to work at the Ministry.'

'So you're the new librarian?'

Mandy nodded again. 'I needed a job; this is only temporary, though. I was working at Flourish and Blotts, but Professor McGonagall sent me an owl to tell me I could work here if I wanted. I practically lived in the library while I was here.'

'I don't remember seeing you,' said Harry. 'Although, I suppose I didn't go there very often.'

'I was invisible.'

'Sorry?'

'I just meant... not a lot of people noticed me. I was quiet. I still am.'

'You're not being quiet now.'

Mandy shrugged. 'I'll be around my books again soon and that'll stop.'

'You sound like Hermione.'

'Well, I _was_ in Ravenclaw, so I was studious, and we were all a bit surprised that Hermione was a Gryffindor, the way that girl read.'

'I agree,' said Harry with a laugh. When Mandy smiled again, Harry couldn't help but look at her mouth.

'I better get to the library. I'll see you later.'

Harry nodded. 'Right. Later...'

He watched Mandy Brocklehurst walk away down the corridor, her purple robes swishing behind her.

XXXXXXX

Hermione Apparated straight into Ron's room, hopping mad. She had paced in her flat for a good thirty minutes after receiving Harry's letter, twirling her hair with her fingers angrily, making it frizz out even more than usual.

'RONALD WEASLEY!' she cried, finding his bedroom devoid of the redhead.

He poked his head into his room. He was wet from a shower. Clutching his old Chudley Cannons towel, Ron visibly hesitated before stepping into his room.

'Usually I like it when you pop over for an unexpected visit,' said Ron lightly.

'Is your mum here?'

'I don't think so.'

'Good.'

'Good?'

'So she won't hear me when I kill you, then.'

Ron took a step back. _Good_, Hermione thought, _he's afraid of me. He should be_.

'What do you think you're doing?'

'Trying to get out of the line of fire?' answered Ron, taking another step back. His back hit the wall and Hermione advanced further, poking her finger in the middle of his chest. He was wet, so Hermione couldn't tell if he was beginning to sweat or not, but she was hoping he was.

'What's the big idea?'

'Hey, that's the big question we're all trying to have answered.'

'Don't be smart with me!'

'I could never.'

Hermione felt her jaw clench. 'Harry _told_ me how you went and propositioned him.'

'You make it sound dirty.'

'It _was_ dirty.'

'Say dirty again. It's hot.'

'RONALD! It was a dirty rotten thing to do. You know very well that this was _my_ idea and _my _plan and I don't take lightly to you going behind my back and trying to devise a plan of your own.'

'I just wanted to keep you safe!' Ron cried.

'It's _my_ fault all this is happening, therefore _I_ should be the one to—'

'Harry already agreed,' interrupted Ron. 'He doesn't think it's your fault. He said he wants to do it. For you, for us, for him.'

'For him?'

'He's not an Auror. If he can do this and get rid of McDougal, then perhaps they'll accept him into the Auror program.'

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

'That's what he said.'

'And what about you? What about you and the Auror program?'

Ron shrugged. 'Unless I go "missing" with him—'

'Absolutely not.'

'—then I don't know. I guess I'll just have to continually reapply until they get tired of seeing my name on the rejection letters.'

Hermione stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest.

'Hey, what happened? I like it when you pin me against the wall.'

'Ron, this is no time to joke.'

'Isn't it?'

Hermione shook her head.

'You have to joke in situations like these,' said Ron, turning things around and advancing on Hermione, 'otherwise you'll take everything too seriously.'

Hermione took a step back. 'This _is_ serious.'

'If I have to tie you up and put you in an Imperturbed room, I'll do it. For all I know, I could've lost my dad, and for all I know we could lose Harry – but I _refuse_ to lose you. Is that serious enough for you?'

Hermione nodded. 'D'you... D'you ever cry?'

'Why would I cry?'

'About your dad?'

Ron shrugged. 'No, but I think about him a lot... at night, mostly when I'm not with you.'

'Not with me?'

Ron took another step forward. 'You have a way of taking my mind off of things.'

'Ron?'

'Hmm?'

'Your – your towel fell off.' Hermione licked her lips. The back of her knees collided with Ron's bed and he tumbled down on it with her.

'Ronnie?'

'That's your mum!' squealed Hermione, pushing against Ron to get him off of her.

'Shite,' said Ron. Hermione watched him grab his wand from his bedside table and point it on the door, shutting and locking it. 'That's better.' Ron kissed her neck.

'Not with your mum home.' Hermione wiggled away from Ron and Disapparated from underneath him.

XXXXXXX

'What're you doing?'

Rebecca jumped and nearly dropped her book. 'Er, nothing.'

'You're hiding back in the corner of the library for a reason,' said Ginny.

Rebecca handed Ginny her book and blushed. Arching an eyebrow, Ginny took the book and looked at it.

'You want to interpret your dreams?'

'No.'

'Then why the dream book?'

Rebecca took the book back and walked around the stacks and sat down at a lone table. Ginny followed her, feeling intrigued. She sat across from Rebecca and leaned forward.

'I've been getting these dreams... and they're too clear to be actual dreams.'

'What do you mean?'

'When you dream normally, things are odd... out of place. Even if you're in your bedroom, things are out of place, do you know what I mean?'

Ginny shrugged. 'I guess.'

'You can sleep in your bed, but it's ten times bigger or ten times smaller? Anyway, these dreams I've been having are like watching a movie.'

'I've never watched a movie before.'

'But you know what one is, yeah?'

'I know it's a Muggle thing.'

'Just imagine the photographs we have... moving and talking and such, only it tells a story... Anyway, these dreams are clear.'

'What are the dreams about?'

Rebecca blushed.

Ginny widened her eyes. ''Becca? What are the dreams about?'

'They're about Draco,' whispered Rebecca.

'Like sex dreams?'

Rebecca nodded.

Ginny snorted. 'That's completely normal! Everyone has sex dreams.'

'Not like this.'

Ginny skewed up her face. 'Are they weird?'

'Bizarre.'

'Gross. Don't give me details.'

'Believe me, the details are too embarrassing to tell.'

'So you think someone is sending you dreams about Draco?'

Rebecca shook her head. 'No, I think Draco's sending them to me. He's such a randy little git sometimes. I wouldn't put it past him to do something like this.'

Ginny was quiet for a moment, lost in thought. 'You know... it sounds like it could be Legilimency. Harry had a dream when I was a fourth-year about Sirius Black being held hostage in the Department of Mysteries, only when we went to the Ministry, we found out that Voldemort had just sent that image to Harry on purpose.'

Rebecca shook her head again. 'No, I think this is more dream-specific. Harry could have been sent that vision at any time. Hasn't he gotten visions while he's been awake as well?'

'Yes.'

'This is only when I sleep. How would Draco know exactly when I'm sleeping to send me visions? If I saw these things while I was awake, I'd be convinced that I was going barmy. But what I'm really convinced of is that Draco is doing some sort of dream spell or something. I've already looked at all the other books on dreams. This is my last one. If the answer's not in here, I'm not sure where else to look.'

'You could always ask Trelawney or Firenze.'

'Oh. Right. Ask the professors about my sex dreams involving my boyfriend? I know you're smarter than that.'

'Just a thought,' said Ginny with a shrug.

Rebecca flipped through the pages of her book. She glanced up. 'There's Stebbins. Why don't you go off and snog him while I finish doing my bit of research?'

Ginny turned around. Stebbins was returning his library books, stopping to chat to the new librarian before waving to Ginny.

'All right. He _is_ looking particularly snoggable today.'

XXXXXXX

Ron cursed. Hermione just Disapparated right from underneath him. Of all the nerve! He snatched his towel from the floor and Disapparated as soon as he heard his mother's footsteps coming up the stairs.

'Hermione!' he shouted as soon as he Apparated into her flat. 'Hermione!'

He went down the hallway and opened the door to her bedroom. She had unbuttoned half of her shirt and pulled her hair back into a sloppy bun, holding it together with a pencil stuck through it.

'Don't you ever knock?'

'You ran out on me.'

'I'm going to take a shower and go to bed.'

'But it's not even dinner time!'

'I'm tired!' Hermione finished unbuttoning her shirt with annoyed movements.

'I'll take a shower with you.'

'You've already had one.'

'So? I cannot remember the last time I saw you hot and wet.'

'Ron!'

Ron gave Hermione his wicked smile. 'What? Like my play on words?'

'It was dirty.'

Ron felt himself twitch. Ah, she could be so fucking hot when she wanted to be. 'Say it again.'

'Dirty.'

Ron enclosed the space between them and kissed her roughly. He all but ripped the clothes from her body, picking her up and taking her into the bathroom. He turned on the water, took the bar of soap, and set off to have a hot shower with his girlfriend.

XXXXXXX

Afterwards, Ron took his old Cannons towel and Apparated back to his bedroom at The Burrow. He shook out his hair, spraying droplets of water around him. He turned towards his chest of drawers and jumped in surprise.

'For Merlin's sake, what are you doing?'

Ron's mum stood up from where she was seated on the edge of his bed. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but her eyes glanced down to the towel wrapped around his waist.

'Do you have to make it so obvious that you were doing _those_ things.'

'What?' said Ron, feeling confused.

'I know our loo doesn't have Hermione naked inside, but for heaven's sake, Ron! Do you have to Apparate in here baring the freckled crack of your bum?'

'Mum!' cried Ron. He felt his ears heat up. 'What're you doing in my room in the first place?'

Mrs Weasley's face turned very sombre. 'I have more bad news.'

Ron let out a breath. 'Dad?'

His mum shook her head. 'No,' she said. 'Bill.'

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX

A/N: My beta, doraemon, is going out of town for a couple of weeks, so my next update won't be for a bit. Fortunately, she won't be gone forever! And I wouldn't want to post new chapters without a beta looking over them – she always finds important things that I've missed.

With that said, I'm sorry for leaving you with a bit of a cliff-hanger, but I promise that it'll all be worth it in the end (or, at least, I'd like to hope so!).

To respond to some reviews - My wife/girlfriend didn't have a baby - I had a baby. Yes, that's right, DanielGilmore is a chick. Gasp! Lol. His name is Jon.

Stebbins IS his last name. David is his first. Well, obviously.

My fic is too much like a soap opera? It's got a bit of angst, yes, but I'd only concede and say it's a soap opera if Ginny's evil twin came and had sex with Harry and then kidnapped him and stranded him on a desert island with Snape and the two of them had a love affair on it because they thought they were going to die alone with the palm trees.

The Weasley clock - well, I suppose I haven't mentioned it, but none of the Weasleys are freaking out, so I'm assuming Arhtur is pointed to Lost. The clock WILL make an appearance though, later.

That is all, keep reading and keep reviewing! I like to know what you think.


	13. Fires Inside and Babies

A/N: My beta's back, my beta's back. does a little dance

And now you have my (hopefully) mistake-free chapter!

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Thirteen: Fires Inside and Babies**

XXXXXXX

'_Bill_?' Ron cried. 'What's wrong with him? Is he missing? But he doesn't even work for the Ministry—'

'Nothing's _wrong_ with him,' said Mrs Weasley.

'But you said you had bad news.'

'I do.'

Ron stood there, in his wet towel, waiting to hear awful, terrible, horrible things about his brother, but they didn't come. Instead—

'Fleur's _pregnant_!' Mrs Weasley wailed.

'What?'

'Pregnant.' She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. 'Ohh, _why_? _Why_ does she have to be pregnant?'

'That's not a good thing?' Ron scratched the back of his head with one hand, while the other clutched the towel around his waist; he felt confusion.

'No! Bill _had_ to marry that strumpet, that – that _tart_ – that _trollop_!'

'Trollop? You don't like Fleur?'

'She's a blonde little tart, if you ask me. A right scarlet woman. If I had had the choice I would've had him marry someone else.'

'Why?'

'She's a Veela!'

'So?'

'So! So, we don't know that she's not using her powers to make Bill love her. For all we know, he could be under her spell.'

Ron blinked. His mother had clearly gone 'round the bend. Completely. 'You sound like Hermione. You're paranoid. Bill's smarter than to fall under a Veela's spell. D'you mind? I need to get dressed.'

Mrs Weasley sniffed again, nodded, and left Ron's room.

He used his wand to shut and lock his door. He made a mental note to ask Hermione how to do a more powerful locking spell, since his mother obviously _Alohomora_'ed her way through his first one. He pulled on one of his old Weasley jumpers and a pair of jeans, and with bare feet, he made his way out of his room and down the stairs to the kitchen.

His mum was cooking dinner for what looked like an army.

'Are Fred and George coming over or something?'

'Yes, and George's bringing his girlfriend.'

'George has a girlfriend?'

Mrs Weasley nodded. 'Apparently they've been together off and on for a while. It's taken me months to get George to bring her here to meet me. He's so secretive... I don't understand why.'

Ron sniffed. 'Is that roasted potatoes?'

Mrs Weasley nodded. 'Yes, and lamb.'

'Lamb? Since when do you make lamb for supper?'

'Since today. I want a nice supper for George's girlfriend. And the two of you' – Mrs Weasley turned around and shook her spoon at Ron – 'will _not_ fight at the table like you usually do.'

'Well, if he keeps his mouth shut about Hermione—'

'I don't care,' said Mrs Weasley. 'No fighting. I want all my boys here tonight for a nice dinner. It's been such a long time since everyone's been home, and I want everyone here. Hermione can come if she likes. I would tell you to Apparate over to her flat to invite her, but I'm afraid you might come back in a sheet or something. That's not something we need to see.'

'_Mum_!'

'I saw enough of your freckled bum when I changed your nappies.'

'Oh my God,' Ron groaned out. He nicked a piece of bread from the bread tin. His mum slapped his hand, but Ron stuffed the piece of rye in his mouth before she could get it away from him. 'Ow!'

'Ron! You're going to ruin your appetite.'

'Like that could happen,' mumbled Ron.

'Set the table for thirteen, then go make sure Hermione is going to come.'

'Well, she said she was going to go to bed after her shower, but I'll try to see if she'll come.'

'Going to bed after her shower? What'd you do to her?'

Ron looked at his mother, blinked, and then skipped right over her question and asked a question of his own. 'Thirteen... that's a lot of people. Do we even know thirteen people?'

Mrs Weasley began to rack off names. 'Bill and Fleur... Charlie and Gina... Fred and Angelina... you and Hermione... Tonks and Remus... George and whatever his girlfriend's name is...'

'That's only twelve.'

'What, you think I'm going to _make_ dinner and _not_ eat it?'

'Yes?'

Mrs Weasley waggled her spoon in front of Ron's face. 'I _should_ beat you with this spoon, but I've seen Hermione's temper and I don't fancy having a yelling match with her when she sees the pulp you've been reduced to. That said, set the table.'

Ron went to the dresser and took out the forks, knives, and napkins. They were mismatched, just like their plates and glasses and mugs. Ron put his Chudley Cannons flatware by his chair. As he set the twelfth and thirteenth place, he asked his mum, 'Why are Remus and Tonks coming?'

'It's a celebration dinner.'

'Celebrating what?'

'Babies.'

'But I thought that you weren't happy about Bill and Fleur being pregnant?'

Mrs Weasley waved her wand and her spoon began to stir the sauce simmering on the cooker. 'No, but Tonks and Remus are expecting as well.'

'What? Really? Fleur and Tonks... at the same time?'

'Tonks' been expecting for a couple of months. Didn't you all know? It was announced at the last Order meeting.'

'I was in Latvia during the last Order meeting.'

'Oh. Well, yes, there was a big fight between her and Remus when he said he didn't want her to patrol the Ministry while she was pregnant. He's usually not protective, but she has to take care of herself in her condition. Remus has had such a hard time between James and Lily and then Sirius three years ago. I'm glad he's got someone to make him happy. And I know Andromeda is thrilled to be a grandmother.'

'More excited than you?'

Mrs Weasley snorted. 'I'm sure I'll be jumping up and down when Hermione gets pregnant.'

Ron blanched.

Mrs Weasley narrowed her eyes.

'Don't worry,' said Ron. 'I'm not stupid.'

Mrs Weasley raised her eyebrows.

'Okay, not that stupid.' Ron sat down at the table with the flatware still in his hands. 'Mum? D'you really not like Fleur?'

'She's a bit shallow for Bill. Although, with that ponytail I'm surprised any girl agreed to marry him. He looks like—'

'Mum, do you like Hermione?'

Mrs Weasley turned all the way around. 'What?'

Ron swallowed. 'Well I never knew you didn't like Fleur...'

Mrs Weasley sat across from Ron and took his hand. 'Of course I like Hermione. I've always liked Hermione. Now, go get her and let me finish dinner.'

Ron placed down the last two sets of flatware and Disapparated to fetch Hermione.

XXXXXXX

Hermione practically fell asleep during supper; she hadn't been lying when she told Ron she was going to go to sleep after her – their – shower. Everyone seemed very excited when Bill announced Fleur was pregnant. Charlie's wife, Gina, was especially thrilled, but became abnormally quiet when Tonks said she was also expecting. Ron didn't pay much attention to Gina, though. She was always nice, but she talked a lot and Charlie always made sure he had a hold of her hand or arm, which Ron found rather annoying.

Percy and Penelope were in France, working for the French Ministry, which Mrs Weasley had a fit over when she found out. Her latest project was working on getting all of her sons to move close to home. Bill had retained his desk job; he needed a less dangerous job since Fleur was pregnant, even though he wanted to go back to curse-breaking in Egypt. Charlie was still taming dragons, although he was no longer in Romania; he'd moved to Ireland with Gina to help with a den of Blue Irish Firebreathers. So, already Mrs Weasley had her two eldest sons close to home, and she didn't even have to try very hard.

Ron knew Percy wasn't going to come back to Great Britain. By leaving the family when Ron was a fifth-year, Percy had created a rift between him and the rest of his family, a wound that might never heal. Even though he'd been home a couple of times, Percy had never made any indication that he was truly a member of the family once again. Ron didn't care too much; Percy was never his favourite brother.

Since his mum knew that he and Hermione were sleeping together – a fact that he couldn't hide even if he did his best to deny it – Ron Apparated to her flat after dinner. Hermione sat down on the sofa in her small lounge and stretched.

'I'm exhausted,' she said with a yawn.

'I'm sorry,' said Ron, sitting down in the corner of the sofa opposite Hermione. 'You knew didn't you?'

'Knew what?'

'Lavender.'

'No.'

Ron narrowed his eyes. 'Liar.' He remembered it quite well – the whole thing had only happened about three hours ago.

_'Hey, Lavender,' Ron had said. 'What're you doing here?'_

_ Lavender glanced at George uneasily._

_ 'I thought Mum told you we were coming to her ridiculous celebration dinner for Bill and the Tart.'_

_ Ron snorted. 'The Tart?'_

_ 'That's what Mum called her in her note when she sent Pig over earlier.'_

_ 'Oh. Well, er, yeah, Mum said you were coming with your girlfriend.'_

_ George raised his eyebrows. '_Yeah_.'_

_ Ron blinked. Oh. _Ohhhh_. Right. '_You're_ his girlfriend?'_

_ 'Well, shit, Ron, you make it sound like a bad thing.'_

_ Just then Hermione walked into the living room. She smiled at the blonde-haired Gryffindor. 'Hi, Lavender! I haven't seen you in a while. Your hair looks nice.'_

_ 'Thanks. I've been using a new hair potion. This one is supposed to restore natural wave if you've used the old hair-straightening product.'_

_ 'Well, it looks nice either way.'_

_ 'Thanks. George told me about you and Ron. Congratulations.'_

_ Hermione smiled again. 'Thanks. Although, I suspect that everyone saw an engagement coming eventually.'_

_ Lavender nodded and Ron's eyes looked back and forth between the two girls. They acted as if they had expected to see one another here tonight!_

'You knew. Are you friends with George or something? Because I know you and Lavender would never be friends.'

'Well, he did help me keep in contact with Harry. George is a lot more mature than anyone gives him credit for, y'know.'

'Is he?'

'Yes. He always thought I was brilliant when we were at Hogwarts – even when you didn't.'

Ron rolled his eyes.

'It's true. I realised it when he was a sixth-year, but that's neither here nor there. Sometimes George and I owl each other... perhaps once a month. I actually have several good ideas for jokes. It's nothing to worry about, though, so don't get jealous like you do with Viktor.'

'I'm not jealous over Viktor.'

'Ho. Right.'

'I'm not! Besides, when did George ever think you were brilliant?'

'He told me as much.' Ron opened his mouth, but Hermione hurried on. 'A few months ago. He's always been especially nice to me, even at Hogwarts.'

'He thought you were a nightmare!'

'No, _you_ thought I was a nightmare!'

Ron sighed. 'How do _you_ help with jokes?'

'Just ideas on how to create anti-cheating charms for homework.'

'Oh shite, are you kidding me?'

'Absolutely not!'

Ron snorted. 'Only you. Why are Fred and George interested in anti-cheating charms anyhow?'

'Well, the idea is that if someone tries to copy your paper the ink changes on the paper into silly sentences that don't make any sense.'

'So it's trick ink?'

Hermione shrugged. 'Sort of. I don't really know how they're making it... I've just given them some ideas on how to get it to work.'

'Only you would help out with a joke that would force people to do their own homework.'

'You say it as though it's a bad thing.'

Ron shrugged.

'I don't want to argue with you, Ron, and this will only lead to an argument, I'm sure.' Hermione yawned again.

'Then you're not going to like my next question.'

Hermione groaned. 'What is it?'

'I know you want a Muggle wedd—'

'Don't start on that again!' cried Hermione, leaping to her feet. 'I just need to deal with my dad not being able to give me away in my own time.'

'But you're not dealing with it.'

'Oh? And you happen to know everything about me, then?'

'For the love of Merlin, Hermione, would you just calm down? Harry had a solution to the problem.'

'_Harry_? The same Harry you ignored for the entire summer holiday and half of the school year? _That_ Harry?'

'Yeah. Do we know any other Harrys?'

'You're taking the advice of a man you secretly cursed almost everyday for abandoning us and your sister?'

'Well, it seemed like a good idea.'

'Fine. What is it?'

'Eloping.'

'E – what?'

'E-_loping_. It's when—'

'I _know_ what it means to elope, Ron.' Hermione sat back down on the sofa. 'Your mum would be furious.'

'Mum would get over it. She went to Bill's wedding in France, and Charlie's in Romania. And she practically ran Fred's entire wedding. She'll attend George and Percy and Ginny's whenever they get married. Besides, it's not about my mum... it's about you. And I want to plan on something that'll make you happy. If you want to do things the Muggle way, then we can. Harry said Muggles elope all the time.'

Hermione nodded. She looked away from Ron.

'Look, I just wanted to tell you about it. If that's something you want to do, then just tell me and we'll do it. Think it over. I know you're dealing with a lot of stuff right now and Mulciber is driving you into the ground, so I won't bring it up again. It's up to you – so you don't have to think about it until you're ready and you don't have to worry about me pushing you. My lips are sealed for now.'

Hermione smiled sadly. She scooted over to Ron and put her head in his lap, curling up into a ball. 'Thanks, Ron.'

Ron began to play with her frizzy hair.

'It was nice to see your family again. I don't think we've all been together like that since Fred's wedding – I don't think that Order meetings count. We hardly have time to sit down and chat about personal matters during those.'

'Yeah. Mum's got some obsession over having the family together. She wants everyone in her house at all times. I think perhaps she's lonely.'

'Oh, I don't think she's lonely,' said Hermione, shifting a little. 'I think she probably wants everyone close to her so she can keep an eye on them. After all, your father was taken without warning; any of you could be taken as well.'

Ron swallowed hard. 'Yeah.'

'Ron?'

'Hmm?'

'Will you stay here tonight with me?'

'Of course, why?'

'Last night I had a dream about the final battle at Malfoy Mansion... I was scared to go back to sleep.'

'Is that why you're so tired tonight?'

'Yes. Well, work has been hectic as well, but, yes, my dream was rather horrid.'

'Did you, y'know... wake up screaming?'

Hermione made a little sound in her throat. Ron wasn't sure whether it was a yes or no, but he didn't ask again just in case it was a yes. Instead, he scooped Hermione up off of the sofa and carried her down the hall to her bedroom. He placed her on the bed and got next to her, holding her close to him. And that was how they fell asleep.

XXXXXXX

That same night, Rebecca lay tossing and turning in her Slytherin four-poster bed, fast asleep, with another dream invading her slumber.

It was a tangle of limbs... discarded shirts... lips on lips... lips on cheeks... on jaws... necks... shoulders...

There were lovebites... teeth on ears... nibbles on earlobes... hands on breasts... on arms... on hips... underneath jeans... inside knickers...

Lips on skin... everywhere... with a pile of forgotten trousers, forgotten socks, jeans, underwear...

The tangle of limbs became a tangle of hands, mouths, and kisses... tangle of tongues, licks, and nibbles... of grasping, feeling, and moans... of touches, of heat, of fire...

Each touch igniting a small fire... building... churning... yearning for release, to break free – touches of the tongue, of the lips, on precious places – on secret places –

Touches led to begging, pleading... _here, there – more, less – softer, faster, harder – please, please... _please – PLEASE!

Which then led to stiffening, shuddering, gasping, and then, relaxing as warmth washed over.

Gratitude came in reciprocated kisses and touches... where bodies connected and the fire rebuilt... where eyes were open, but unseeing... where mouths were gaping, but silent... where hands were linked, and bodies moved in a dance synchronised by love... by passion... by lust, want, and need...

Final gasps and groans and shouting of names left two sated bodies drenched in sweat... whispering attributions of love and commitment... before sleep claimed them both.

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Rebecca woke the next morning and pushed back her bed curtains. She knew no one was aware of the dream she had during the night – that unbelievably sexy dream – but she still felt jumpy. The other girls in the dormitory room were still asleep, so Rebecca quietly got herself dressed and headed down to breakfast. The Great Hall would be practically empty at this hour, but that's what Rebecca was hoping for. When the Hall was empty, houses intermixed. Usually if Ginny was up this early, she'd come over to the Slytherin table and eat with Rebecca.

But when Rebecca entered the Great Hall, Ginny was sitting at the Hufflepuff table with Stebbins. Inter-house eating was normally discouraged, but as the only professor who was up this early was Trelawney, no one took that policy seriously. After all, Trelawney wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin anyway.

Ginny waved Rebecca over and she walked slowly over to the table. A few stray Hufflepuffs glanced at her whilst whispering amongst themselves, but Rebecca ignored them. She could care less about what some poufy Hufflepuffs thought about her.

'You look tired,' said Ginny.

Rebecca nodded.

'More weird dreams?'

Rebecca glanced at Stebbins before scooping up some bacon and toast and placing them on her plate. She poured herself some coffee and shrugged, saying, 'Oh, not weird per se, but too vivid to be a normal dream.'

'What kind of dream do you think it is, then?' asked Stebbins.

'I don't know. To be honest, I thought that my boyfriend might be sending them to me, but I don't know how. It's not Legilimency because I'm asleep and... well, it's just different.'

'Someone sending you dreams? Sounds like _Cleptum sonnium_ to me.'

Rebecca looked up sharply. 'What did you just say?'

'_Cleptum sonnium_. It's a spell, but a very tricky one. My great-grandfather was a master at it. Basically, what you do is send someone images and messages through their dreams. You steal the dreams they _should_ be having and replace them with ones you've created in your own head. The purpose of it is to drive someone insane.'

'Oh my God.'

'Oh, 'Becca, I'm sure Malfoy isn't trying to drive you insane,' said Ginny reassuringly. 'I mean, if he's the one sending you dreams... if anyone is sending you dreams.'

Rebecca didn't miss the glance exchanged between Ginny and Stebbins.

'So, it's hard, you said?'

Stebbins turned to Rebecca. 'What?'

'Learning that spell. Is it hard?'

'I think so. It's a Dark spell, I think. My great-grandfather used it on my grandfather to keep him from joining the Muggle army. He would send him dreams of his death during war to try to scare him off. All it did was drive him mad, really. A right bit of rubbish, that spell. I mean, I don't think it's ever been used for any good.'

'Well, I'm cleverer than Draco. If he can figure out this spell, then so can I. I'll be in the library.'

'Er, 'Becca? I'm rather certain that the spell would be in the Restricted Section,' stated Ginny.

Rebecca gulped down the rest of her coffee and shrugged. 'I'll just tell that new little librarian twit that Madam Pince had on record a note for me to have access to the Restricted Section.'

With that, Rebecca stood up, and walked out of the Great Hall.

XXXXXXX

As they watched Rebecca leave, Stebbins leaned towards Ginny and tugged lightly on a bit of hair next to her ear. She smiled. It was an endearment, and she liked it. He always did it right before he kissed her.

'Can I ask you something?'

Ginny nodded.

'When are you going to come back to Defence class?'

Ginny looked away. Stebbins put his fingers underneath her chin and turned her head back towards him.

'What's going on with you and Harry?'

Ginny shook her head. 'Nothing.'

'I don't believe that.'

'It's true.'

'Gin. Just tell me, all right?'

Ginny sighed. 'I thought that I might have some feelings for him left – but don't get me wrong – I still liked you as well. So, I went to his office to ask him if he still, y'know, loved me. He kicked me out of his office... I didn't want to face him in class because I felt like a heel.'

'Do you still have feelings for him?'

'No. He's not the same person I thought he was, and part of me thinks that I might have gone out with him because he was famous. Is that terrible of me?'

'You were only sixteen.'

'I'm only seventeen now.'

Stebbins shrugged. 'People can grow a lot in just a year. I just want to make sure I don't have anything to worry about. I don't want to lose you to a professor.'

'You won't, whispered Ginny. 'I don't want to be with Harry anymore, I promise.'

'Honestly?'

'Yes. I _promise_. I imagine I'll have to rekindle some semblance of friendship with him since he's best mates with Hermione and Hermione is going to be marrying my brother. But there's nothing to be worried about.'

'Good. Because you're a girl I could probably fall in love with.'

Ginny let out a breath. 'What did you say?'

Stebbins wet his lips. 'Not yet, but soon. I fancy you more than I have ever fancied another girl.'

'Wow,' said Ginny softly. 'That's... wow. You shouldn't. I don't deserve it.'

'Why not?'

'Because of what I did... going to Harry's office. I probably shouldn't have gone out with you if I still thought I might have some feelings for Harry.'

'But you don't now, right?'

'No.'

'Then it doesn't matter. Look. I think you're fun and funny and sweet.'

'I'm not as fun as I used to be. I haven't felt myself for a while.'

'How can we get you back to your old self?'

Ginny shrugged.

'Well, I want to help you get back to yourself.' Stebbins tugged on her hair again. Ginny's breath hitched as Stebbins eyes strayed down to her mouth. He started to lean into her, but Ginny pulled away.

'Not here,' she whispered. 'Let's go outside.'

'Near the forest?'

Ginny nodded. She had a hard time not looking at Stebbins' mouth herself. Standing up, Ginny took Stebbins' hand and they left the Great Hall.

XXXXXXX

Harry barely noticed the black-haired sixth-year walk into the library and right over to the Restricted Section. He himself was leaning against the front desk of the library, chatting with Madam Brocklehurst ('Ohh, please don't call me that,' Mandy had said. 'It makes me sound old.')

'I remember you at Hogwarts,' said Mandy. 'We had Defence together in sixth year. I sort of thought you were a bit of an arse.'

Harry felt his face heat up a bit. 'Well, I was.'

'You were different seventh year, though. Not as much of a bastard... but then you lot disappeared.'

Harry nodded. 'Yeah. Voldemort made threats against me and my friends and the school so we were taken to a safe house, and the location was only known to us by our Secret Keeper.'

'Where was it? Or can you not tell me?'

'It's no longer a safe house,' said Harry. 'Professor Lupin lives there now with his wife. It's in the Irish countryside. It was an old Muggle house.'

'And you got to stay there with your girlfriend... with no supervision? Is that why you were in such a better mood beginning of the term? Because you got to snog?'

Harry laughed. 'I'm sure that had something to do with it. But my godfather died right at the end of fifth year... I was dealing with that still.' Harry shrugged. 'I was just immature, I'm sure.'

'And you're mature now?'

'Oh, I don't know. I try to be, but I'm a bloke, so that automatically makes me a bit immature anyway.'

Mandy smiled. Her teeth were perfect. Her hair was pulled back into a loose bun with wisps flowing free around her face; Ginny never looked quite that sophisticated.

'So I am curious about one thing; how do you deal with teaching your ex-girlfriend?'

'Oh. She doesn't really go to class much, but when she does I just ignore her. She has a new boyfriend.'

'And you?'

'Oh, no, I don't have a new boyfriend,' said Harry cheekily.

Mandy grinned. 'That's not what I meant.'

'No, I don't have a girlfriend, but I don't need one. Ginny sort of screwed with my head a bit, and I think I'm still, er... healing... from it. I suppose.'

'That's good. That's probably healthier for you – y'know, to heal fully. Emotionally.'

'Er, yeah.' Harry cleared his throat; he hadn't been so open with a girl in a very long time – even Hermione hadn't got this far into his head.

'But that doesn't mean you can't have friends, right?'

'No, friends are good.' Harry took a drink from his water bottle. 'Friends are really good.' _Especially when they're good-looking_, he added in his head.

'What's in that?'

'In my water bottle? Coffee. I haven't been sleeping very well.'

'Why's that?'

'Well, at first it was because Ginny was screwing with my head, and now it's because I'm having really weird dreams.'

'What kind of dreams?'

Harry shook his head. 'I dunno exactly. Just weird. And once I wake up, I can't fall back asleep.' He shrugged. 'It happens a lot. I owl my dreams to Hermione and when she has time she looks up stuff for me in one of her Muggle psychology books.'

'You could always ask Professor Trelawney about them.'

'That daft bat? I don't think so. She'd probably tell me the dreams are messages about my impending death. She predicted that I was going to die nine or ten times while I was a student here. And yet, here I am.'

Mandy smiled. 'Yes, here you are.'

Harry opened his mouth, but was interrupted by Rebecca tapping him on the shoulder. She plopped down a very large and musty smelling book onto the desk. She wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her jumper.

'Professor,' she said, 'I need your help.'

Harry looked at the book. 'What's _Cleptum sonnium_?' he asked, reading the title of the book.

'It's a spell for stealing dreams and replacing them. I need to learn how to keep someone from doing it, and I want you to help me.'

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX


	14. Of Raspberry Firewhisky and Dreams

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Fourteen: Of Raspberry Firewhisky and Dreams**

XXXXXXX

October melted into November and Harry found himself weaving through the crowd of students with Mandy's hand on his shoulder so she wouldn't lose him. They got to the teachers' stands and sat down next to one another, watching Madam Hooch test the Quidditch balls before the game started. It was common practise to test each ball ever since one was cursed to chase and throw Harry from his broom during a game.

The rest of October was just a blur of essays and quizzes. Harry had forgotten how much he hated writing essays, but grading them was an entirely different story. He had to give his more creative students credit. Especially one particular Hufflepuff who wrote that if faced with a mad wizard trying to hex you, you should just run away as fast as you can. Harry couldn't take away full points on that one, especially since this student couldn't cast _Protego_ to save his life.

Other than marking essays, Harry had taken on the task of helping Rebecca learn Occlumency, figuring that was her best bet in order to keep someone out of her head. McGonagall wasn't fond of the idea, but Rebecca wouldn't let up on the Headmistress until full permission to teach Occlumency was given.

Harry wasn't the best at it, but he wouldn't try to invade her private thoughts like some other professors would, especially those with long greasy hair and yellow teeth ('You'd think he could come up with a potion that would turn his teeth white,' said Mandy once with a giggle. 'He looks a bit like Death under a warming spell.').

Sleep was a precious commodity that Harry could barely remember. The last time he'd slept for more than an hour straight... well, he couldn't remember when that was exactly. Once he'd been able to get Ginny out of his head, his dreams turned from her to the bizarre. He felt as if he was stuck in some sort of nightmare all the time and couldn't get out. Even when he was awake, things felt surreal, as if he wasn't really a part of the things around him. Everything swam in front of his eyes, and if he wasn't particularly gifted in Defence, he probably wouldn't have been able to do the spells right. He couldn't even cast _Alohomora_ right, as evident by one of his first-years barging into his office, panicked because she'd got an A on her essay instead of an O.

The first Quidditch match was the first time Harry had felt any semblance of normalcy in a while. Quidditch was fun. It was intense. It was something that could fully distract Harry.

He'd had to talk Mandy into going with him. She wanted to keep the library open in case there were any students who decided to do homework instead of go to the game. In the end, she relented, cast a charm over all the books not to leave the library until she got back and could check them out to students properly, and joined Harry at the pitch.

Their friendship was something Harry was very grateful for. She was quiet, but she was intelligent, and while she never told any jokes, she could laugh freely. Harry wasn't ready for a relationship, but his friendship with Mandy was good. It was beyond good. It was great. Ron and Hermione were consumed with their jobs (and each other), but now that Harry was back in their lives, he knew that their trio could never be broken. Still, Hermione and Ron were far away from Hogwarts, and Mandy was very much close to him.

So, Mandy gave him an out. She made meals more enjoyable and he felt genuinely better about life, now that he had a friend to look forward to seeing every day. Even going to the Quidditch game was better, since he had someone to sit with.

'I never went to a game when I was a student,' said Mandy.

'What!' Harry was amazed. 'You didn't like Quidditch?'

Mandy shrugged. 'It was all right, I suppose. Seemed like a silly game, Quidditch.'

'Silly? It's right brutal. You understand the rules, then?'

'Yes. My older brother tried to get me to play with him when we were home from Hogwarts.'

'Was he in Ravenclaw as well?'

'No, he was a Hufflepuff.'

Harry was surprised. 'Really? What's he doing now?'

'He's an Auror.'

'_Really_?' Harry's interest peaked. 'That's what I wanted to do, but I didn't get into the program.'

Mandy nodded. 'Theodore Nott did, but no one else did.'

'What!'

The game started and Mandy and Harry had to talk over the cheers of the students. It was Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff – Ginny versus Stebbins, which Harry found strangely amusing.

'Yeah, McDougal took over the hiring of all the new Aurors, and all the applications were rejected except for Theo's.'

'Really?'

'What?'

'I said, _really_?' Harry called out.

Mandy leaned in closer to Harry. In his ear, she said, 'Yeah, or at least that's what my brother told me.'

'What?'

Mandy groaned. The cheers were too loud for Harry to hear her – and the announcer just boasted that Gryffindor had scored, making the match ten to twenty in favour of Hufflepuff.

'We'll talk after the game.'

'What?'

Harry practically yelled, 'We'll – talk – _after_ – the game!'

Mandy nodded.

The game went quickly, and lasted no more than twenty minutes. Hufflepuff scored on Gryffindor ten more times before a flash of red zoomed by the teachers' stands and went after the Snitch. Apparently, Gryffindor was hurting since Ron left; their new Keeper was as bad as Ron had been the first few games in fifth year. The new Seeker, though, was fantastic. Harry had seen her practise with the rest of the team. She was a second-year and the little sister of Dennis and Colin. Her name was Cailin and she was fast and small and had a sharp eye. Harry fancied his house for the Quidditch Cup with Cailin Creevey on the team.

All the Gryffindors cheered and stormed onto the pitch to congratulate their team for a game well played. Harry hung back as the other professors went to make their way back into the castle.

'Want to go to Hogsmeade?' asked Harry. 'Get some Butterbeer?'

Mandy pressed her lips together, and if Harry didn't know better, he would have thought she was trying to suppress a smile. She nodded, though, and they set off towards the small town.

XXXXXXX

Madam Pomfrey gave Ginny some sort of foul-tasting potion and told her 'bottoms up' before going over to one of the Hufflepuff Beaters and tending to a particularly nasty looking bruise on his collar bone.

'How're you feeling?'

Ginny turned. Stebbins had come into the hospital wing, changed from his Quidditch robes into a blue sweatshirt, jeans, and trainers. Ginny reached up and touched her head. When she withdrew her hand, it was tinged red from where a Bludger had grazed her forehead.

'I feel better. Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion to stop my headache, and she said she's going to come back and heal the cut after she fixes the rest of your team.'

Stebbins snorted. 'You lot slaughtered us. Intense match, that was.'

Ginny nodded in agreement. She remembered how Michael had acted towards her after her team had beaten Ravenclaw, and she wasn't looking forward to getting into a row with another boyfriend about being on a better Quidditch team.

'You played a good game.'

'Thanks...'

'I should get you to teach me some moves for my matches against Ravenclaw and Slytherin.'

Ginny looked at him blankly.

'Well, I mean, you're a much better Chaser than I am.'

Ginny grinned. 'Yeah?'

Stebbins nodded. 'Oh, but I'm sure it's because all Weasleys are good at Quidditch, and not because you're just a better athlete,' he said jokingly.

'Ha ha,' said Ginny. 'My brothers Percy and Bill didn't play.'

'Well, five out of seven isn't bad. Your brother Charlie was a Quidditch legend, y'know.'

'Until Harry became Seeker,' said Ginny with a disgruntled tone.

'People who know Quidditch still know about Charlie.'

'So you're not angry that my team beat yours?'

'No. Should I be?'

'I don't know. I just figured that you would be. You know, male pride and all that rubbish.'

'Ah,' said Stebbins, nodding. 'Well, all right, let's see, then.' He paused. 'No, sorry, I can't get angry about this. Besides, I think it's rather funny that my girlfriend is a better Quidditch player than I am.' He shrugged. 'Kinda makes me curious as to what else you're better than me at.'

Ginny raised her eyebrows. 'Ohh?'

Stebbins just smiled. 'Hey, are you going to get out in time for lunch?' he asked, looking at his watch.

Ginny shook her head. 'I doubt it.'

'Well, I'm starved. Do you want me to save you something?'

'No, you go on ahead. If I get hungry I can just nick something from the kitchens.'

'All right, then. Feel better.'

Stebbins kissed her forehead before leaving the hospital wing. Ginny sighed and lay back on the bed. She knew she was looking for reasons why Stebbins wouldn't want to be with her. Michael Corner got an attitude when Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw in her fourth year, so she assumed Stebbins would get upset as well. And Ginny knew why she was looking for reasons why Stebbins wouldn't want to be with her – she had a hard time believing anyone would want to be in a relationship with her. She didn't understand why anyone would take her seriously enough to stay by her side, to keep her as a girlfriend. After all, she was Harry's cast-off, wasn't she?

But David A. Stebbins wanted her, and he was somebody, wasn't he? He was a good guy. Intelligent, cute, almost perfect... It was true that he had his faults, but overall... overall Ginny thought he was practically perfect for her. With Harry she always felt a bit on the backburner. Even though she was friends with Hermione and Ron, she could never be a part of the trio – which, as told to her by Hermione, was on the mend; Ginny knew that the three of them could never stay apart.

Sighing, Ginny flopped backwards on the hospital bed and stared up at the ceiling for a few moments before closing her eyes.

XXXXXXX

'Tell me more about what your brother said about the Auror program,' said Harry, drinking from his glass of Butterbeer.

Mandy nodded and downed the rest of the warm drink before answering. 'McDougal made himself the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He took over the hiring of all the Aurors and Department personnel – secretaries and assistants. The only people who have been hired lately have had some connection to Voldemort's Death Eaters. But no one can seem to do anything about McDougal. In fact, no one has seen him in a few months except for his two assistants.'

'How come nobody has done anything about him? I don't understand.'

Mandy shrugged. 'Why did people deny that Voldemort was a real threat for so long? No one wants to deal with it, I imagine. Silly, that. Stupid, more like it. McDougal could be the next Voldemort.'

'Mmm,' said Harry, making a noncommittal noise. 'That's what you think, yeah?'

'That's what my brother thinks. But Michael has always had mad theories about everything... Still, I suppose he might be right about it. It seems as though... it seems as though things might get worse if someone doesn't stop him soon. Last time the Death Eaters killed and tortured people for sport. I'm afraid that's what's happening to all the missing people... I think... I...' Mandy looked away.

'Mandy? What's wrong?'

'James Brocklehurst,' she whispered.

'What?'

'That was my father's name.' Mandy looked up. 'One of the Death Eaters tortured him until he died. They used Dark magic... severing spells and twisting spells... never one of the Unforgivable Curses, though.'

Harry swallowed. 'When was this?'

'When I was just a few months old. My older brother witnessed it; that's why he's an Auror now. Changed him, that did. My mother was never quite the same either. I suppose that's why I'm so quiet. No one ever spoke much in my house after that. Michael told me it used to be a busy house. My aunt and uncle and their children lived with us as well... but after my dad died, things were different. I suppose it's better for me not to know a happy house, than to know both.'

'You think so?'

Mandy nodded. 'That's why McDougal must be caught and killed. No one else should have to be so utterly changed as my family was.'

'For a conversation like this, we need something stronger.' Harry motioned towards Madam Rosmerta and called for some Ogden's Special Edition Raspberry Firewhisky.

Mandy blushed. 'Is that necessary?'

Harry nodded. 'Oh, yeah. Tomorrow's Sunday – no classes. Besides, if we're going to tell Voldemort stories, I need something strong.'

Madam Rosmerta dropped off a bottle of pink Firewhisky and two glasses. 'Such a feminine drink, Mr Potter. One might think you're trying to get your lady friend drunk.' She winked at Mandy and went back behind the bar counter.

Harry sniggered; Mandy blushed.

'Here,' said Mandy, opening up the bottle and filling up one of the glasses. She pushed it towards Harry.

'So why did Voldemort kill your father?'

Mandy poured herself a glass and tossed it back. She grimaced and then smiled. 'I've only ever had Firewhisky once. It was over the summer when my brother was home. He and I are really close.'

'That's good, isn't it?'

Mandy nodded.

'So tell me,' prodded Harry.

'My father was against Voldemort. My mother always taught me not to be afraid of anyone. She taught us to say Voldemort's name when we were young. Every year, in August, she tells us the story about how my dad died. She says it's to remember him by, but I think it's so that we never forget.'

'I'm sorry,' said Harry, and he meant it.

'My grandmother was Muggle and my grandfather was a wizard, so my mother was only half. It was good enough reason as any for Voldemort to hate my family and reason enough to allow his Death Eaters to play games with us.' Mandy pulled her hair away from her shoulder, exposing a large, jagged scar running down the side of her neck. 'This is from where my father's ring slashed my neck when the Death Eaters tore me from his arms. I was four months old and my mum said she thought I was going to die because she didn't know magic, so they had to try to heal me the Muggle way.

'Anyway,' continued Mandy, 'the Death Eaters took my mother away... and made my brother watch as they used spells to twist my father's arms around and around until they practically fell off. Then they used a severing spell to cut his skin... They drew the Dark Mark in cuts and slashes... carved their mark into his very skin and left him to bleed out and die. Some of my friends' parents died... most of them had the Dark Mark somewhere on them.'

Harry swallowed. 'Awful, that.' He poured himself another glass of Raspberry Firewhisky. 'I'm sorry.'

Mandy shrugged. 'I don't talk about it much, of course. I suppose I'm bitter because there are _so_ many people who don't seem to care about defeating Dark wizards. So many witches and wizards were apathetic about Voldemort, and even more who are apathetic towards McDougal.'

'McDougal hasn't been in the _Daily Prophet_ like Voldemort was. People don't know.'

'They've heard rumours. They know enough.' Mandy poured more Firewhisky. 'It's a shame, really. People don't have honour like they used to. Everyone is concerned with themselves. It's hard to find good people to help.'

'You're talking about the Order,' said Harry.

Mandy nodded. 'My brother's a member. He's a spy, if you will, inside the Ministry. He keeps his mouth shut within the Ministry walls, but his ears are always open.'

'I'm sorry about your father.'

Mandy nodded again. 'I don't remember him – well, obviously. But I shouldn't have been robbed of the chance _to_ remember him.'

'Voldemort killed my parents.'

'I know.'

'He killed my godfather as well. Dumbledore was killed in a fight with him... He kidnapped my best mate and tried to make me choose between him and my girlfriend. Er, ex-girlfriend now.'

'You mean, between Ron and Ginny?'

'Yeah. Right awful choice, that was. I didn't choose either of them, and because of that, a lot of people were hurt and killed.'

'What happened the night you defeated Voldemort for real?'

Harry straightened up. 'I'll tell you any other story, but that one.'

Mandy frowned. 'How come?'

'Because... that's a story I'm only going to tell once.'

'I don't need to hear it more than that,' said Mandy, confusion riddled in her face.

'No, I mean I'm going to tell it once, and only once. It's a story that I don't think I can tell over and over, so as soon as I find that right, perfect person, I'll tell her. When you want to be with someone forever, they should know everything about you, yeah? So, I'll tell her the story, but... only once.'

Mandy smiled, although it looked like a sad smile. 'All right.'

'Not that one day I won't tell you. It's just...'

'I understand. My story is different. I've told my story loads of times. It's the reason why I have such a hatred for Dark magic. Here, have some more Firewhisky. It's really good.'

Harry grinned. 'Yeah, Ogden's Special Edition Raspberry Firewhisky is brilliant. I tried it over the summer. I drank a lot over the summer.'

'Oh?'

'I was hurting, and this is the best pain suppresser. Madam Pomfrey's got nothing on Firewhisky.'

Mandy giggled a tipsy-sounding laugh. 'Definitely not.'

'I hope I'm not telling you too much,' said Harry, suddenly realising that perhaps he'd revealed too much about himself to Mandy. She didn't need to know he drank over the summer. She didn't need to know why he didn't want to tell her the story... did she?

'Too much personal stuff, I mean,' he clarified. 'I just feel like I can talk to you, really. It's nice having a friend.'

'You have friends. You're part of the Dream Team.'

Harry scrunched up his face. 'That's what Snape called us.'

'I know.'

'It's different,' explained Harry. 'They have each other and they're all the way in London. We're at Hogwarts. Besides, I feel at ease with you, and I'm really glad.'

Mandy smiled. She glanced at his empty glass. 'Can't drink anymore?'

'Oh, I could finish up the rest of the bottle and not even feel it,' bragged Harry with a light tone to his voice.

'Let's see it, then.'

XXXXXXX

Harry woke up the next morning with light shining through his window. He blinked. Did he really just sleep the entire night? Oh, fuck. He _did_, but the dreams he had had were flooding back into his brain. He groaned.

'What's wrong?'

Harry's head snapped around. Curled up in a ball with the duvet from his bed, was Mandy. Her hair looked a bit ruffled, probably from sleep, and her eyes were puffy, probably from all the drinking. Harry tried to shove the dreams to a remote part of his brain and focus on why Mandy had stayed in his quarters.

They'd left the Three Broomsticks entirely pissed out of their skulls, leaning on one another to get back to the castle. Then, they used an old secret passage way from the back of the castle to the back of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom; they didn't want to risk being seen drunk by any professors or, even worse, students. They'd come back into Harry's room. Mandy fell back onto the couch and practically passed out. Harry took the covers off his bed to make sure she wouldn't get cold; the air in the castle was fairly frigid during the winter months.

He watched her for a minute or so before turning his attention onto McDougal. In his drunken state, his anger heightened towards the man who fancied running around Britain pretending to be as big and bad as Voldemort. The story that Mandy told him only added fuel to his fire.

Then... he fell asleep, mostly from the alcohol in his body, and dreamt.

'I had weird dreams last night,' said Harry.

Mandy sat up. 'What kind of dreams?'

'I think... I think I dreamt about where the missing are...'

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX

A/N: Next chapter is when everyone begins to plan out how to find Arthur and what to do about McDougal – it's very plot-driven after that. Lots of action to come your way soon! Yippee!


	15. Attacks and Plans

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Fifteen: Attacks and Plans**

XXXXXXX

'It's a trap,' Hermione said absentmindedly, reading over Harry's owl. 'Just like in fifth year.'

Ron narrowed his eyes. 'How do you know?'

Hermione resisted the urge to tell him to shut it. He'd been interrupting her since Hedwig had shown up at Hermione's flat with a letter in her beak with Hermione's and Ron's names scrawled on the front.

'He's been having weird dreams lately. It's part of his subconscious.'

'His subba-what?'

'Subconscious, _Ron_. You don't know what that is?'

Ron shrugged. 'I think I've heard Mum refer to it, but I don't pay attention to her much.'

Hermione gave him a pointed look. 'Anyway, Harry's been really worried about the missing, I know. And it's been bothering him that he can't help them. You know Harry, always wanting to be the hero.'

'How can you be sure? Maybe he's actually found them!' said Ron.

Hermione shrugged. 'I don't know. It seems too good to be true.'

Ron groaned. He sat back on her settee and folded his hands behind his head. 'Why don't you ever have any trust?'

Hermione put her hands on her hips. 'Pardon me?'

'You thought that Harry's broom was cursed in third year and you didn't think that Sirius was really at the Department of Mysteries and—'

'Well I was wrong about the broom, but I was right about Sirius, wasn't I? And look how that turned out. We were all wrecks afterwards, especially Harry.' Hermione walked towards the window and looked out at the street below. 'I don't want to have to relive that again if Harry's wrong.'

'What if he's right, though? I mean, there's almost fifty witches and wizards just gone and if Harry's right, then we could get them all back. We could get my dad back.'

Hermione whirled around. 'Oh, God, Ron, I wasn't even thinking about your father.' Hermione walked over to the sofa and sat down next to Ron. She put her arms around him, resting against his chest. 'I know you still think about him a lot and I know it bothers you that he hasn't been found yet. But the clock at your mum's still says he's "missing" and not in "mortal peril" or anything.'

'Yeah,' said Ron, encircling his arms around Hermione.

'So, let's go talk to Harry. We can meet him in Hogsmeade when he doesn't have any classes. Then, we can decide what to do.'

'Shouldn't we let the Order help? I mean, there're Aurors in it and everyone who know how to handle stuff like this.'

'I cannot believe you of all people are saying that. We weren't qualified to handle the type of fighting we did while we were in Hogwarts, but we still did it. Last term we fought... we fought hard... and...' Hermione sniffed. She untangled herself from Ron and stood up.

'I thought you were over last term.'

'I woke up crying a couple weeks ago, didn't I?'

'Well, yeah, but I thought that was just a fluke or something...' Ron wet his lips. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's all right. I'm fine, really. Sometimes I have bad dreams. I don't like thinking about it is all.'

'Right.' Ron stood up and went to Hermione. His feet seemed to get stuck a few metres away from her. Hermione looked down at them, wondering why he stopped.

'Ron?'

'I really want it to be real.'

'What to be real?'

'Harry's dream,' whispered Ron. 'My dad might have been a bit obsessed with Muggles, but he was my dad and, well, to tell you the truth, he was the only one who could calm Mum down. She would've yelled at us for days if he hadn't stepped in and sidetracked her, usually with something dumb, like talking about a new plug he'd found, and she'd end up yelling at him for his "daft Muggle-obsession".' Ron sighed. 'And I want that back. The next time Mum yells at me, Dad better be there to wave a battery in her face.'

Hermione swallowed. 'That's the most you've ever said about your dad being gone.'

'Not _gone_,' said Ron. '_Missing_.'

Hermione nodded. 'Missing, you're right. All right, we'll go to Hogsmeade and talk to him.'

'And you'll keep an open mind? And not jump to conclusions like in fifth year?'

'Yes.'

'Promise?'

'_Yes_.'

XXXXXXX

'I've been seeing a lot of you lately,' said Madam Rosmerta.

Harry grinned. 'I know, right.'

'Another bottle of Raspberry Firewhisky?'

Harry turned his head and looked at Mandy. 'What do you want?'

'How about a bottle of Dragonisky's Plum Wine?'

Harry looked at Madam Rosmerta. 'Four glasses with that, please.'

'Sure thing, Mr Potter.'

Harry followed Mandy to a table next to the window. Madam Rosmerta dropped off the wine and the glasses. Mandy poured herself half a glass and handed the bottle to Harry.

'Are you sure I should be here?' asked Mandy.

'Why not? Your brother's in the Order, isn't he? You're on our side and you want to help. I think you have every right to be here. Plus, you're my friend and it's only proper that you get introduced to my family... and even if we've been through some tough times, Ron and Hermione will always be my family.'

Mandy smiled and took a sip of her wine. 'Oh, they're here.'

Harry turned around. 'Good.' He waved Ron and Hermione over to the table. Hermione's arms were warm around him when she hugged him and Ron's grip was tight as they shook hands. They all sat down.

'Didn't you go to Hogwarts?' Ron asked Mandy.

'Yeah, I was in Ravenclaw.'

'In our year?'

'Yes.'

'Thought you looked familiar.'

'This is Mandy,' said Harry. 'Her brother's an Auror and works for the Order. She's on staff at Hogwarts.'

'Who's your brother?' asked Hermione.

'Michael Brocklehurst.'

'Really? We know him!'

'We do?' said Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'He and Bill did some recruitment about a month ago in France. He came to dinner, don't you remember?'

'Tall, blonde bloke?'

Mandy nodded. 'That's him.'

'He's one of the Order's spies. He works inside the Ministry and feeds back information,' Hermione said.

'Harry,' whispered Ron, 'is she safe to have here? Talking to us about this?'

'_Ron_! She can hear you. Sorry,' Harry said to Mandy, who shrugged. 'Anyway, yes, she's fine. I've already told her about my dream anyway.'

'Let's hear it again,' said Hermione, pouring herself a glass of wine.

'My dreams have been really weird lately, almost surreal, like a montage of crap.'

Hermione sniggered. 'A montage of crap?'

Harry shrugged. 'That's what it's like, though. I've been trying to teach one of my students Occlumency because she thinks her boyfriend is sending her dreams through some spell called _Cleptum sonnium_.'

Hermione frowned. 'That's a very powerful spell.'

'What is it?' asked Ron.

'A spell that one casts to steal someone's dreams and replace them with dreams that will eventually drive them insane.'

'Except my student's dreams aren't quite bad enough to drive her insane,' said Harry. 'When I tried Legilimency on her... well, they were just weird sex dreams, to tell you the truth.' Harry shuddered, remembering the large jar of black ink from the Giant Squid.

'What do you see in your dreams?' asked Hermione.

'Death Eater stuff... people dying or magical explosions... sometimes I see hippogriffs and Ashwinders and—'

'How long do you see each of these things?'

'Couple of seconds.' Harry shrugged. 'I dunno. Does it matter?'

'I'm not sure.'

'Well, the other night, I had these flashes of different images. I saw the Ministry and then Aurors fighting, then there were cages made for giant human-sized birds or something, then I saw a prison with rows of cells all in a circle. I don't know how many would get in or out of the prison because there didn't seem to be a door, just cell after cell in a huge circle. Bizarre, that. I've never seen a prison like that, even in the movies, y'know? Well, I saw people in the cells, behind bars.'

'How do you know that's where the Ministry personnel are?' asked Ron.

Harry looked at his best mate. 'Because I saw your dad.'

Ron visibly swallowed. 'Yeah?'

Harry nodded.

'So you saw a circular prison,' stated Hermione. 'But _where_ is the prison?'

'I don't know. I think it's in the Ministry.'

'Where in the Ministry?'

'I'm not sure. Department of Mysteries?'

Hermione shook her head. 'No, nowhere in that Department. I know that place like the back of my hand by now. I'm sure there're hidden passages and rooms all around that no one knows about.' She looked thoughtful as she took another sip of wine. 'I suppose we could talk to the Order about doing some investigating in the Ministry.'

'Why can't we go ourselves?' asked Ron.

'We don't want to risk getting caught,' replied Hermione. 'I could try to investigate, I suppose, but McDougal has his eye on me.'

'_What_!' cried Ron.

'I mean because everyone in the wizarding world knows that I was involved in the final battle. McDougal hates Harry and therefore he hates me, not to mention I am Muggle-born. I know that McDougal's people are watching me.'

'_What_?' cried Ron again.

'Shh!' Hermione said sharply.

'How come I've never heard about any of this?' demanded Ron, slamming his glass on the table, breaking its stem.

Hermione groaned, pulled out her wand, and repaired it. 'You're making people stare!'

Ron rubbed at his eyes. 'But you said that McDougal's people are _watching_ you.'

Hermione shrugged. 'So? I'm a very capable witch, thank you.'

'I know that!'

'So why are you getting all mad about it then? Wait, don't answer.'

Ron shut his mouth.

Harry smirked. He was glad that his friends hadn't changed. He loved the way they had got their arguments down to an exact science.

'Being friends with Harry has probably helped keep you here,' said Mandy.

'What?' said Ron, whirling his head around to look at Mandy.

'Well, if McDougal knows anything, he knows that if Hermione goes missing, Harry and Ron will do anything to get her back. You lot defeated Voldemort and McDougal isn't as powerful as Voldemort was. So I'd reckon that he's not keen on doing anything to sic those two on him.'

Hermione smiled. 'Yes. That's the exact reason why I'm not overly worried about it.'

'How can you not be worried?' asked Ron. 'Now I'm worried.'

'If I was going to be taken, I'd be taken by now.'

'How can you just _not_ be worried?'

'Apparently you're worried enough for the both of us – no, _stop_. I'm not worried, so you needn't be worried.' Hermione finished her glass of wine. 'Was there anything else in your dream worth mentioning?'

'I don't know,' said Harry. 'Since then, I've been having flashes of the room.'

'But he doesn't dream that often,' said Mandy, giving Harry a significant look. She turned her eyes back to Ron and Hermione. 'He doesn't really sleep. He carries around an old Muggle water bottle full of coffee so that he doesn't fall asleep during his Defence classes.'

'Does he really?' said Hermione. 'Why isn't he sleeping?'

'The dreams. He'll have one – the "montage of crap" – and then he won't be able to go back to sleep. He says the dreams are just really disturbing.'

Harry looked at Ron. 'Do they just think that I'm not here?'

'I don't know. They're birds, they can completely tune us out if necessary.'

'Obvious, that.'

'Disturbing? Are they making him act oddly?' asked Hermione.

'No, not particularly. By the end of the day he becomes _very_ out of it and tired. Dobby has supplied his quarters with endless coffee.'

'She's seen your quarters?' Ron said to Harry, smiling. 'Wicked.'

'Well, yes, but it's not like _that_.'

'Why not? It's been ages since you've got laid, yeah?'

'Do you _really_ want to think about the last time I got shagged?'

Ron blanched. 'Er, no.'

'Could someone be using _Cleptum sonnium_ on Harry do you think?' asked Mandy.

'It's possible. Although, don't you think it's a bit of a coincidence that one of Harry's students is also under _Cleptum sonnium_?'

'I suppose,' said Mandy, 'but that student is Rebecca and her boyfriend isn't much of a fan of Harry, is he?'

Hermione snorted out a laugh. 'Malfoy? Please.'

'No, wait,' said Harry. 'It could be plausible, yeah? I mean, why not?'

'Malfoy is perfectly indifferent to you, Harry,' said Hermione. 'I don't believe he's trying to drive you mad. Besides, do you really think _Malfoy_ knows where the missing people are? He betrayed Voldemort, so I doubt McDougal is going to allow him access to that sort of information.'

Harry sighed. Hermione was probably right.

'Also,' continued Hermione, 'the only reason you ever received any dreams was because you had a connection to Voldemort. He transferred part of himself when you were a baby. Now that he's dead, I don't see how you could be randomly picking up on any true dreams unless someone is using a spell to send them to you. Even then, I'm not sure why they'd do that unless they want to lure you somewhere and kill you.'

'Hermione!' cried Ron, his eyes wide.

'I'm sorry, but it's true. This is no time for me to dance around the issue. I have to be blunt. Look, Harry, I'm not saying that I don't believe you, but we cannot go running to the Ministry like we did back in fifth year. We have to take the necessary steps. Allow me to discuss things with Professor McGonagall and see who we can get to search through the Ministry thoroughly, all right?'

Harry nodded.

'If no one can find anything, which I'm not sure that they will because the Ministry is very well protected, then we can use the plan that I devised earlier.'

'The plan where we try to get ourselves kidnapped?' asked Harry.

'Yes. I've already done the locating charm. It's sitting in my desk.'

'How exactly does a locating charm work?' asked Mandy.

'It's a bit like a Portkey, actually. If Harry wears the locating charm around his neck, when I activate its brother charm, then it will transport me to wherever Harry is... or within ten feet of him. The charm was outlawed seventy-five years ago when there began to be more regulations with the use of Portkeys. Still, I found a book on how to enchant one, and I've tried it out and it seems to work.'

'You're so bloody brilliant,' said Ron, a tinge of awe in his voice. Hermione blushed and Harry rolled his eyes.

'Thanks. Anyhow, we can implement my plan over Christmas holiday. Harry, you should spend Christmas with us.'

'Oh, er...' Harry's heart began to beat quickly. It wasn't as though he wouldn't like spending the holiday with his best mates, but he wasn't so sure spending a holiday around Ginny would be the best idea. 'I already planned on staying at Hogwarts, actually.'

'Don't do that,' said Ron. 'Spend it with us. The whole Order is going to be at Grimmauld Place for Christmas dinner. You should at least come to that.'

'Oh, I don't know.'

Hermione turned to Mandy. 'You're welcome, too, of course. I'm sure your brother will be there. At least, I'm fairly sure he said he would be.'

'Oh, well thank you. My mum usually visits her sister over the holidays, so I'm sure I won't be missed if I spend the holiday elsewhere.' She looked at Harry when she said this, and he felt the back of his neck heat up. Spending the holiday with Mandy was definitely an appealing idea.

'Please come! You both can stay at my flat. I have an extra bedroom.'

'Er, Hermione, we, uh... wouldn't be staying in the same room.' Harry was sure his neck was going to burst into flame at any moment. Why was he so embarrassed? _Because you wouldn't mind sharing the same room with Mandy, now would you? _

_ Well, that may not be the best idea... yet. _

'Oh,' said Hermione. '_Ohh_! I'm so sorry! I just thought – well you brought her here – tonight – and, goodness – Harry, you never said anything either way – of course, I just inferred – jumped to the wrong conclusion, didn't I?'

'It's all right,' said Mandy with a smile. 'We're just mates. I don't fancy striking up any friendships with students and all of the other professors are a bit old for my liking. Well, Snape isn't too old, but his yellow teeth really freak me out. It's good to have a friend at Hogwarts, really.'

Harry laughed. How could he not respect someone who disliked Snape as much as he did?

'Good, so you'll both come for Christmas holidays? At least for dinner?'

Harry nodded. 'All right. If McGonagall says it's all right, I'll be there.'

'Very good,' said Hermione. 'And we'll see if we can't get you kidnapped.'

XXXXXXX

Stebbins' hand lingered on the third button of Ginny's uniform shirt. They continued to kiss, but Ginny's mind was on that hand. She knew what she wanted him to do with it, yet he wasn't doing it.

'Can I?' he asked, pulling his mouth away from hers. They were lying in the vacant Quidditch tent with towels underneath them to keep the dirt from the ground off their clothes.

Ginny nodded. 'Yes,' she answered breathily.

Stebbins went back to kissing her mouth, sucking on her bottom lip and running his tongue across it. Harry never did that – _Grrr!_ Ginny could kick herself for thinking about Harry at a time like this. She pushed all thoughts of her previous boyfriend to the back of her head and focused on Stebbins. His tongue felt sensual against her lip and a shot of electricity shot down her spine, making her squirm and emit a little squeal.

Sniggering just a bit, Stebbins finished unbuttoning Ginny's shirt. It hung open, and Stebbins pressed his palm flat on her stomach, against her bare flesh, and slowly moved it until it gripped her hip, squeezing her side ever so slightly. Ginny rocked her hips, rubbing against Stebbins' thigh. He groaned and pulled his mouth away from hers.

'Sorry,' whispered Ginny.

'S'all right,' he said, breathing in and out deeply and slowly. He closed his eyes for a few moments, his hand running up and down Ginny's side. His eyes opened up and focused on her mouth. Kissing her again, his hands moved up to touch her breasts. He touched them lightly and slowly, and Ginny squirmed in frustration. She didn't want him to do everything so slowly. That didn't mean she wanted to rip his clothes off and shag him right on the ground, but he was so tentative. She needed him to be aggressive and assured.

_Actually_, she thought, _ripping his clothes off might not be a bad idea... I wonder what he hides underneath all those Quidditch robes._

She giggled at her thoughts and Stebbins pulled away. 'What?' he asked, concern filling his eyes.

'Oh, sorry,' said Ginny.

'Was I doing something wrong?'

Ginny shook her head. 'No. Everything was good.'

'So why were you laughing, then?'

'I was thinking about something funny.'

'While you were kissing me?' Stebbins frowned. 'I mustn't have been very good.'

'David Stebbins, you are a brilliant kisser,' said Ginny, 'and I mean that. I was just thinking about what you hide underneath all those robes.'

Stebbins smiled.

'You weren't doing anything wrong. Did you think you were?'

'I dunno. I wouldn't know.' Stebbins leaned back in to kiss Ginny, but she put a hand against his chest, stopping him. 'What?'

'You've never done this before?'

'I've snogged before, but nothing like this, no. Why?'

Ginny just blinked.

'Er, does it matter?'

'No...' Ginny didn't remove her hand. 'I'm surprised, is all.'

'So I suppose you've done all this before, then?'

Ginny felt her face heat up. 'Yes.' She swallowed. 'I have.'

'All right.' Stebbins took her hand and moved it, leaning back in; Ginny stopped him again. '_What_?'

'You don't care?'

'That you've done more than me? No. Should I?'

'I don't rightly know. I mean, I've done everything.'

'...okay,' Stebbins said slowly. 'What does everything mean?'

'Everything.'

'So you had sex with Harry?'

Ginny nodded.

'And... what kind of sex?'

'The normal kind. The, er, intercourse kind.'

'Ah. I see. Well, good. Now you can teach me.'

'What? _Now_?'

Stebbins laughed. 'No, not _now_,' he said, tugging on a piece of her hair. 'Just, whenever.'

'You don't care? You don't think I'm a slag or anything?'

Stebbins frowned. 'No, I don't. You're always looking for reasons for me not to like you. I wish you'd stop. It's frustrating, really.'

'I don't look for reasons for you not to like me.'

'Yes, you do.' Stebbins shifted and tugged on Ginny's hair affectionately. He sat up and faced her. 'There're lots of reasons why I fancy you.' Stebbins picked up her hand and kissed her fingertips. '_Please_ stop acting as if I have no reason to like you.'

Ginny looked away.

'If anything, you don't always seem to fancy me as much as I fancy you.'

Ginny winced. She immediately felt the guilt pour through her body. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'Oh, shite, I'm sorry. I do fancy you. So, so much. You've really helped me grow. I felt as though I was in Harry's shadow a lot, looking back. He's famous and I never would have been as good as him.'

Stebbins frowned. He lay back on the towels and looked up at the top of the Quidditch tent. His eyebrows furrowed and Ginny wonder what he was thinking.

'There's loads of stuff I like about you. The way you touch my hair... or the way you stare at my mouth when you're tired of listening to me talk... or how you get so exasperated trying to explain Muggle stuff to me when I don't understand...'

'You like that? I thought you hated it when we argued about that.'

'It's the make-up kisses that I like.'

Stebbins laughed. 'Right.'

'So it really doesn't bother you that I'm more, er, experienced?'

'Ugh, no. I don't care. _I_ should be the one worried. You've been there before, so I have to worry whether or not I'm doing something wrong.' Stebbins tore his eyes away from the Quidditch top and looked at Ginny. 'Gin, I told you already that you're practically perfect for me and given a bit more time, I'm going to fall completely in love with you like some lovesick bastard.'

Ginny felt her face heat up again.

'Ah, there's that blush I like so much.'

'I do have to tell you one big secret, though.'

'All right,' said Stebbins with a concerned look on his face.

'I'm sure you've heard all about this McDougal guy, yeah?'

'Yeah, sure, I suppose. Former Death Eater, kidnapped a bunch of people, Minister for Magic, yeah?'

'Yeah, but no one has actually _proven_ that he's behind all that. Anyway, I was a part of the fight with Voldemort' – Stebbins winced at the mention of the name – 'and I know that even though my father is missing I don't want to be part of this fight. I want to be left alone. I want to be done with all that. Voldemort changed my life completely, in more than one way, and I don't ever want to be involved with any Dark wizards again, even if it's on the opposite side. I feel, though, that I should want to fight, but I can't bring myself to care enough.'

'That's not so bad. It's understandable with all that you went through last year – what with being taken out of school and fighting in the final battle and everything.'

Ginny gulped. 'There's more. Voldemort possessed me when I was eleven. He made me do terrible things.'

'Really?'

'Yes. I'm the reason so many students were Petrified.'

Stebbins' eyebrows lifted.

'I opened the Chamber, set loose the Basilisk, and it was all because Voldemort possessed me.'

'That's your big secret, then?'

'Yes.'

'That's a pretty big secret.'

'I know,' said Ginny, 'but it wasn't my fault. I never would have done it if—'

'Love, shut it. You're a good person. You're sweet. You'd never do something like that on purpose.' Stebbins smiled, although it looked a bit sad. 'Gin, nothing you could say could make me like you any less. I'm absolutely mad about you.'

Ginny couldn't help but smile. She bent over and kissed him soundly on the mouth, taking his tongue in her mouth. She moved her leg over him so that she was straddled over his hips. Her hands worked on the buckle of his belt, but his hands stopped her.

'Don't,' he whispered.

'Why not?'

'Because I don't want you to do this because you feel some sort of obligation to me, because you feel like you need to try to prove that you fancy me or something. I know you do, so it's all right.'

'You don't want me to?'

'Gin, I'm a bloke, I want to watch you dance around starkers, but I don't think this is good timing.'

Ginny shook her head. 'Perhaps not for sex, but that doesn't mean I don't want my hands to get to know your entire body.'

'Mmm,' said Stebbins as his hand reached up and brushed across the cotton of her bra. 'All right.'

XXXXXXX

November grew steadily colder and brought an impromptu Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. It resulted when the two teams showed up on the pitch at the same time for practise, and after much fighting, they decided to play for the pitch.

A few students from the other houses came to watch, everyone all bundled up in coats and scarves and mittens. Rebecca and Ginny sat and watched the rather brutal game. They had an entire section of the stands to themselves, as most of the Gryffindors stayed indoors to work on homework (and the Slytherins would never have allowed a Gryffindor to sit amongst them).

'How're things with Stebbins?'

'Good,' said Ginny with a smile.

'That's a pretty big smile. Did you two...'

'No. Just other stuff. He's a very fast learner and he wants me to tell him exactly what I like. Plus, he told me he loved me this morning after breakfast.'

Rebecca looked shocked. 'Really?'

'Yes. But he told me not to say it back until I was sure.'

'Well, do you love him?'

Ginny took in a deep breath, the cold air chilling her lungs. 'I think so. It feels different than when I was with Harry. I suppose because I was infatuated with him for so long, years, really, before we started dating. I was just ready to love him for the rest of my life.'

'And then you slept with him.'

'Yes. I wish I hadn't. I always wanted to sleep with only one person for my entire life, like my parents, but now I don't think we'll ever get back together.'

'You never know,' said Rebecca. 'I like Stebbins, though. He's good for you.'

'I think so, too—'

Ginny was interrupted by a gush of wind behind her. Looking up into the sky, twenty or so wizards were flying overhead. They all had on dark red robes the colour of dried blood. They were pointing their wands and yelling out spells, trails of magic lighting up the air.

Grabbing their wands, Ginny and Rebecca ran down the stands until they hit the grass. They started towards the castle at a fast run, but something pulled at Ginny's feet, as though someone had grabbed them and glued them to the ground, and she fell down. All she could see was the green of the grass an inch in front of her eyes and her nose filled with its smell. Her heart was beating much too fast and her brain felt as though it was swimming in her head. The wind had been knocked from her and she turned herself over so that she lay on her back, catching her breath and blinking away the stars from her eyes.

Next to her, Rebecca had also fallen.

'Are you all right?' Ginny asked.

Rebecca was scrambling to get up herself, but one of the robe-clad men had landed and yelled _Stupefy _at her. Rebecca fell again, crumpled, her black hair fanning around her head. Her eyes stared straight ahead and she looked completely paralysed. The Dark wizard scooped up Rebecca's body and took off into the air on his broom.

Ginny searched around her for her wand, but she couldn't find it; it must have fallen out of her hand when she fell. She stood up, still looking around frantically for her wand. She couldn't protect herself if she didn't have it! Fortunately, no one seemed to be coming after her. Her feet planted on the ground, Ginny watched helplessly, tears filling her eyes, as the wizards scooped up student after student and took off into the air and disappeared. None of the Slytherins were touched, a fact that was not difficult to miss.

Ginny let the tears run freely. She felt arms around her and she turned to find Stebbins, out of breath, holding onto her waist.

'I saw – from the library – and I came down – because I knew you were here,' he panted out. 'Are you all right?'

Ginny nodded. 'They took Rebecca.' Stebbins wiped away the tears from her cheeks and let Ginny cling to him. She knew that slowly kidnapping personnel from the Ministry was the first sign of a new war, but this felt like an ambush. This was the first true sign that a second magical war was upon them, and this time the Dark wizards meant business.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX

A/N: Um, okay, quick note... let's see if I can't answer some questions from my reviews...

Are Harry and Ginny going to get back together? Okay, first of all, I'm not doing my job very well if you can completely predict what's going to happen in this story. Predictions are always welcome in the reviews, mainly b/c I'm amused at what people think is going to happen. As far as H/G goes, they've broken up. If they get together, it won't be in the next few chapters. For the remainder of their lives... I suppose you'll just have to read and see.

'Tomorrow Never Knows' - I had an outline, but it's lost and the remainder of the story is on a computer at a friend's house and they are in Russia for the next few months so I can't get access to that comp until they get back.

Does Harry like Mandy? Absolutely.

Someone asked if anyone remembered that Rebecca is part Muggle - and after finishing this chapter, I'm going to assume your question is answered.

Questions about the lesser ships - they're all important in their own ways. The Bill/Fleur and Charlie/Gina ships are being set up in this story b/c I have an outline for a Remus/Tonks story and they're involved in that one. Draco/Rebecca is important b/c of the dreams and such. You'll see more of Draco next chapter. Rebecca and Draco have always been a good couple.

Um, my baby is fine. He's healthy. He doesn't give much time to write.

Now, a poll for you guys. When I'm finished with this story, I can't decide if I should write a Remus/Tonks story or a Draco/Ginny story. Let me know which you'd rather read so I can try to choose which one to write first. 


	16. Secrets and Want

**A/N: This chapter contains sexual content (not that you folk really need a warning, eh?). **

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Sixteen: Secrets and Want**

XXXXXXX

'Why didn't I see this?' demanded Harry, rubbing his eyes. He opened them and had to force himself not to blink, else fall asleep.

'Because you're tired.' Mandy patted his shoulder. She took his water bottle and went into his bathroom. Harry could hear her as she tapped the faucet twice which emitted coffee. She came back out of the loo and handed Harry the water bottle. He took it and put it up to his mouth.

'Ouch! It's hot.'

'It's coffee.'

Harry nodded. 'I know.' He took another gulp and winced as the heat travelled down into his stomach. 'Why didn't I _see_ this?'

'Harry—'

'No!' he cried, standing up. 'I've been having these shite dreams for months and none of them told me this was coming. I used to have visions all the time, but now...' Harry rubbed his eyes again. 'Fuck.'

'When was the last time you slept?'

'Dunno. Night before last. Maybe.'

'_Maybe_? I really wish you'd take some sort of sleep draught. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey has something.'

Harry shook his head. 'I've had enough of potions. Between that awful potion to re-grow my bones and the ones I had to take when I threw up after having one of my visions or dreams – I'm just tired of the hospital wing. I like feeling like myself.'

'You need sleep, though.'

'What I _need_ is to find Rebecca.'

'You don't always have to be the hero. Let the Order help you. You don't have to do it by yourself.'

Harry frowned and shook his head. 'Well I feel like I need to find her. Find them all. Shite.'

Mandy stood up and turned Harry around to face her. 'Let the Order help, all right?'

Harry cocked his head to the side. What was she on about?

'I'm serious. Fight if you feel the need to fight, but this isn't a personal fight against _you_. This isn't like with Voldemort who actually wanted you dead, y'know. This isn't just about you.'

Harry swallowed.

'So, let the Order help you, especially the Aurors. They're trained to fight. And let me help you.'

'You? No.'

'It's my fight as much as yours. Remember what the Death Eaters did to my father? I didn't fight last time and I want to this time.'

'You shouldn't have to,' said Harry, feeling the concern fill his body.

'Neither should you. Neither should any of us. Rebecca shouldn't have had to fight, and yet she's out there somewhere, missing – along with several other students. This will _never_ end unless we do something about McDougal. Only then can we all be truly free in the wizarding world.'

'I hate the wizarding world.' Harry paused. 'I hate the Muggle world, too. I don't feel like I belong anywhere.'

'Why not?'

'My aunt and uncle used to lock me in a cupboard. I used to get things like a Kleenex for my birthday, if they remembered. They hated my parents and were nothing but cruel to me. And ever since I've been in the wizarding world, someone's tried to kill me and my friends.'

'That's kind of how I feel,' said Mandy. 'Magic has caused me nothing but pain, really. If it didn't mean leaving my brother, I'd leave it.'

Harry furrowed his brow and wet his lips. 'Really? What about your mum?'

'My mum? My brother says she hasn't been the same since my dad died. I won't really miss her, but I'd miss my brother.' Mandy shrugged.

'So, you're going to go to London with me? To fight?'

'You have to let other people help you, though, and you have to follow Hermione's plan. Use the locating charm, just to be safe so we'll all know where you are.'

'But if I go now—'

'If you go now you could get kidnapped as well. Then what would we do?'

'I don't know...'

'I have no problems conjuring up some rope and tying you down to keep you here.'

Harry raised his eyebrows. From the look on Mandy's face, she had no idea that her idea sounded like a right good time. Ginny was never _that_ adventurous.

'There's only a few more weeks until Christmas holiday. Let's pull our resources, talk to the Order, and be as prepared as we can be.'

'You remind me of Hermione,' said Harry. 'You're so careful and you work in a library.' He sniggered. 'Just like Hermione.'

'I'm not just like Hermione.'

'No, you're prettier.'

Mandy opened her mouth. She closed it after a moment, seemingly at a loss for words.

'Sorry,' Harry mumbled, feeling his palms begin to sweat. 'I've got horrid timing.'

Mandy smiled. 'No, it's all right. Friends first, that's what we said.'

Harry nodded. 'We did say that.'

'Because you need to get your life sane again before you go making it more complicated.'

'Right.' Harry looked at her, his eyes never leaving her blue ones.

'And I think you should wait before making comments about me being pretty.'

'Do you?'

Mandy nodded. 'I don't – I don't want to be just a rebound girl.' She sat back down on the sofa. 'I fancy you too much for that.'

Harry swallowed. 'Yeah,' he said, 'me too.'

There was a silence that stretched on for several minutes until Mandy broke it by saying, 'I should probably head back to my quarters.' She stood up.

'Er – wait,' said Harry. 'Stay here.'

Mandy's cheeks turned pink. 'I can't do that.'

Oops. 'No, not like that. Just, stay.'

Mandy looked up into Harry's eyes and nodded.

XXXXXXX

Draco pounded on the thin door over and over again. From the flat next door, a young-looking man opened his door. Before he could even open his mouth, Draco snapped at him.

'I'm not pounding at _your_ door so bloody well mind your own business.'

'I should hex you.'

'Yeah? You do that – but don't forget I now know where you live!'

The wizard closed his door just as the one Draco was pounding on opened.

'Malfoy?'

Draco turned. Ah, good, he'd got the right flat. Very good indeed. He pushed past the witch and entered her flat. Looking around he noticed that she had fairly good tastes, even if some of her belongings were of lower value than he would have chosen for himself.

'What're you doing here? It's three o'clock in the morning.'

'You didn't _hear_? The _Daily Prophet_ didn't send out an emergency edition here?'

'I'm sure they did, but—'

'Hermione, shut it.'

Hermione closed her mouth, looking rather angry.

Draco looked around the flat and spotted an open window. On the table in the dining area was a small owl asleep on top of the _Daily Prophet._ Draco yanked the paper from underneath the owl and held it out to Hermione. Her eyes went wide as she read the story. When she finished she reread it again, much to Draco's annoyance.

'So why are you here?' she asked.

'Because your bloody Order always go rescuing people. So, y'know, go rescue.'

'What was all that banging?' another voice asked.

Draco looked up. _Weasley_. He smirked. The tall redhead had walked into the room from the hallway, a pair of pyjama bottoms on and no shirt. His hair looked particularly unkempt, something that Draco would never allow to happen to himself.

'What're _you_ doing here?' snapped Ron.

'Oh, here,' said Hermione, shoving the paper in his hands. He read the story, although not as quickly as Hermione had.

'Here for a late night romp, then, Weasley?'

Ron ignored him, but Hermione shot him a dangerous look. Draco smirked again.

'So Death Eaters attacked Hogwarts? And took a bunch of students?'

'They're not Death Eaters anymore,' said Draco. 'They were only Death Eaters when the Dark Lord was in power.'

'Whatever.'

'They're trying to avenge the Dark Lord's death.'

'If they were trying to avenge his death, why aren't they going after Harry?'

'I don't know. But you have to go after them.'

'_Us_?' said Ron, his tone disbelieving.

'Well why not? You ran after Voldemort all the time. You went to the Department of Mysteries and made fools of yourselves. You lot must have a death wish, yeah? Why not this time?'

'Because we don't know where they are.'

'Doesn't Potter know?'

Ron crossed his arms over his bare chest, newspaper still in hand.

Hermione's annoyed look melted into a thoughtful one. 'How would Harry know where the missing people are?' she asked, raising his eyebrows.

_Fuck_. 'I don't know. Potter usually knows everything, doesn't he?'

'No,' said Hermione. 'Malfoy, you better tell us.'

Draco groaned. 'This is stupid. I don't know any more than you do. Now, are you going to help Rebecca or not?'

Hermione took the newspaper back from Ron. She went and sat down on her settee, reading over the paper again. 'Shame that she was taken. Too bad no one will help her. I hope she doesn't _die_.'

'Fuck you,' growled Draco. 'I hope _you_ don't die, Mudblood.' He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his wand, pointing it straight at Hermione.

'Whoa,' cried Ron, putting up his hands and standing between Draco and the settee. 'What the fuck is wrong with you two?'

'Malfoy's being unreasonable, so I'm being unreasonable back,' answered Hermione. She turned and looked straight at Draco, her brown eyes burning holes into his skin.

'So, stop being unreasonable,' Ron said to him.

Draco rolled his eyes. 'What do you want to know?'

'Why do you think that Harry knows where the missing people are?'

'Because I was contracted through the Ministry to learn certain spells. I was supposed to find a test subject and try the spells on them. Then, once I learnt the spells, I had to teach Ministry officials how to use them.'

'Malfoy, what kind of spells did you learn?'

'Er...'

'_Malfoy_,' said Ron in what he probably thought was a very threatening voice; Draco wasn't threatened by anyone.

'An Irish man came by and said that the Ministry would pay me well to learn how to invade someone's dreams and then teach another guy named McClintock how to do the spell. I chose a test subject and worked on it until I had it perfected. Then, I taught McClintock how to use it. It wasn't until a few days ago that McClintock said he had had success with it and had been able to pull Potter's dreams out of his head and put new ones in.'

'And did McClintock tell you that he was giving Harry dreams about where the missing were?'

Draco nodded. 'Yes.'

'You're working for the Death Eaters!' cried Ron, coming up and grabbing a fistful of Draco's silk shirt.

'Oh, I am not, you piece of shit,' snapped Draco. 'Now, let go of me!'

'Malfoy,' said Hermione, almost too sweetly, 'now I'm sure you wouldn't have _intentionally_ worked for the former Death Eaters, but fact of the matter is, you have.'

'What? I _said_- let go of me!'

'Ron, let him go.'

Ron let go of Draco's shirt. Looking down, Draco noticed that his shirt was now wrinkled. Bloody git.

'How do you know that McClintock works for anyone who used to be a Death Eater?' asked Draco.

'Well, he must because former Death Eaters are the ones who have been kidnapping people all over Britain,' answered Hermione. 'McDougal is behind it.'

'That great bloody fool?' Draco rolled his eyes. 'I should've known! When my father was still a Death Eater, he used to visit someone in Ireland named McClintock... cousin of a Death Eater. Shite, why didn't I think of it before? I'm so fucking blind.'

Hermione frowned. 'Yes, well. So, you showed McClintock how to use _Cleptum sonnium_?'

'Yes.'

Hermione nodded and had a look in her eye as though she was calculating something in her head. 'Do you know how long it takes to drive someone insane who has been subjected to _Cleptum sonnium_?'

'No.'

'You weren't worried about driving Rebecca insane?'

'Who said anything about Rebecca?'

'She figured out that you were sending her dreams,' said Hermione. 'She enlisted Harry's help. She got him to teach her Occlumency so she could block out the dreams you've been sending her.'

Draco's eyes narrowed. 'I wasn't trying to make her go insane,' he snapped. 'I was just trying to see if I could do the spell.'

'You never stopped to think that someone from the Ministry wanted to drive someone else insane?' asked Ron. 'You didn't think that this is a spell that's been made illegal?'

'No. Almost everything the Ministry does is illegal. The Minister for Magic himself is a criminal. I didn't think anything of it, no. Besides, I need a job. In case you forgot, _Weasel_, my father's reputation still lives on and no one wants to give me a job.'

'Tragic.'

'Fuck off.'

'Both of you, stop,' said Hermione, standing up. 'Look, a lot of Hogwarts' students were captured by Death Eaters, someone is trying to drive Harry mad, and a former Death Eater is the Minister for Magic. I _think_ we can leave the arguments for another time.' She wet her lips and looked at Ron. 'I think it's time to really start actualising my plan,' she said to him.

'What plan?' asked Draco.

'None of your business,' said Ron.

'Oh, really? Don't you have a broom to fly on somewhere? Merlin knows _that's_ a respectable way to make a living.'

'Both of you, grow up!' cried Hermione. 'Grow up and _shut_ up.' She took in a deep breath. 'All right! Malfoy, how long has Harry had these dreams inflicted upon him?'

'Can't be more than a couple of months.'

Hermione nodded. 'Well, it takes several months for the dreams to drive someone to insanity, but...'

'But what?' prodded Ron.

'But with the lack of sleep Harry's been getting, it might not take as long. Still, we need to act fast. There's only three more weeks until Christmas. We'll do it then. Malfoy, are you going to help us?'

'_Help_ you?' Draco was disgusted. _Help_ a Mudblood? She couldn't possibly be serious.

'Oh, fine, not _us_, but Rebecca?'

Draco narrowed his eyes. 'I don't know. What would you have me do?'

'Fight, most likely. You're very good with curses.'

Ron snorted. 'Yeah, especially the Killing Curse.'

Draco turned on Ron and made to punch him in the mouth, but Hermione pointed her wand at him and glued his feet to the floor.

'There is no violence in my house, especially against my boyfriend.'

Draco couldn't help himself, the need to roll his eyes was too great. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to call that big, red hairy ape their boyfriend.

'If you don't want to help us, fine. Go back to Malfoy Mansion. If you want to help, then the two of you will stop bickering and listen to me.' She stared right at Draco. 'What'll it be, Malfoy?'

XXXXXXX

Harry woke up with a raging headache. It was still very dark outside, but he knew the sun would be rising soon. He sat up. Mandy was under his covers, her blonde hair pulled back into two plaits on the either side of her head. She looked nice and warm, but Harry was freezing; he had been curled up at the foot of his own bed without any covers. Mandy stirred and opened her eyes.

'Are you all right?' she asked. 'More bad dreams?'

Harry nodded and looked away from her. He felt the sudden urge to vomit, and did so over the side of his bed. Before he could open his eyes, Mandy had Vanished it and crawled across the bed to him.

'Feel better?'

Harry nodded again, but he avoided her eyes.

'Harry?'

'What?'

'Don't be embarrassed. Didn't you used to do this when you were a student? Have bad dreams and then get sick?'

'How'd you know that?'

'Luna told me. She was in my house, y'know.'

'How'd Luna know?' asked Harry, feeling very ill at ease that these people knew these kinds of details about him.

'Neville,' said Mandy.

'Oh, right. I forgot they used to date.'

Mandy nodded. She swept Harry's hair away from his face. 'It's okay, don't be embarrassed. I'd hate to think you honestly care what I think about something like this.'

'I don't understand why everything happens to me. Why do I have to have these stupid dreams? It doesn't make any sense. Voldemort's gone, so I shouldn't have to fight anymore.'

'You don't _have_ to,' said Mandy.

'Of course I do,' said Harry quietly. 'There's a reason I'm getting these dreams. I'm sure McDougal wants to kill me, wants revenge or something. I'm sick of it, though. Sick of having to fight.'

'You're going to fight hard, though, aren't you? You're not going to just give up or anything, are you?'

Harry's head snapped up. 'What? Of course not. When this is over, though...'

'What? Go on.'

'Nothing. Perhaps we'll talk about it later. I have a headache. I think I'll go to the kitchens and get something to eat. Want me to bring you anything back?'

Mandy shook her head. 'No, I'm all right.'

Harry nodded. He put on his robe and went to his door. He stopped with his hand on the knob. 'Thanks,' he said.

'You're welcome.'

He left his quarters and went towards the kitchens, thoughts of Amanda Wendy Brocklehurst on his mind.

XXXXXXX

Harry and Mandy were due to arrive in three days. Hermione went shopping and bought extra sheets and blankets so that one of them (presumably Harry) could use her sofa as a bed at night. On her way home, Hermione impulsively went by the Ministry to speak with Mulciber and request a few days off of work – 'Order business,' she said. 'We have a plan, McGonagall has okayed it, and I need time.' Mulciber had given her a week off.

She felt a bit guilty about lying to Mulciber. Truth was, she _did_ need a few days off for Order business, but she also had a big surprise for Ron planned for Christmas. Anxiety about it filled her, her heart beating extraordinarily fast. It was silly, she knew, but she couldn't help it.

Ron's Christmas present. She was going to give it to him tonight. It was quite a surprise... quite a surprise indeed. After she'd got rid of Malfoy, she went back to bed while Ron Apparated back to The Burrow. She couldn't sleep, though, and she was sure it was because Ron wasn't there. That's when her thoughts began to wander. What if Ron was never there? What if she lost him when they implemented her plan? Her bright, seemingly brilliant plan. Ha! What a joke. Her plan could get him killed. They'd locate Harry and then, what? Fight? Throw curses back and forth? What a load of rubbish. They'd try not to get killed.

That's when Hermione made up her mind. And now—

A loud crack sounded from the living room. Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. She'd straightened her hair like she had for the Yule Ball in fourth year. She put on kiss-proof lipstick and waterproof mascara. Her skirt was black and went to her knees and underneath that was a pair of grey stockings which she wore with black shoes. Her jumper was a light cream colour, almost white, and clung to her perfectly.

Next to her mirror was her chest of drawers which proudly displayed the Blood Rose Ron had given her for Valentine's Day. It was still in full-bloom, bright red, and beautiful. Looking at that rose gave Hermione courage and she took that courage with her into the hallway and to the living room.

'Hi,' said Hermione, wetting her lips.

Ron had seated himself on her sofa. He turned his head around and his jaw dropped.

'You look amazing,' he said. 'Why're you all dressed up?'

'I'm going to give you your Christmas present.'

'Christmas isn't for another four days. Why now?'

Hermione shrugged. 'I don't know. I wanted to give it to you now. But you have to promise me if you don't like, you'll tell me.'

'Unless I have to read, I'm sure I'll like it fine.'

Hermione smiled. 'Good. Let's go.'

'We're going somewhere?'

'Yes.'

'I thought _that_ was my present,' said Ron, pointing to a package wrapped in brown paper sitting on the coffee table.

'D'you _really_ think I'd wrap a present in brown paper?'

'I don't know,' said Ron. He reached out towards the package.

'_NO!_' cried Hermione. 'Don't touch it!'

Ron yanked his hand back. 'Shite, what's wrong with you?'

'Nothing, just don't touch it. Are you ready to go?'

Ron gave Hermione a funny look, but he stood up nevertheless. 'All right. Where are we going?'

'Just be quiet and follow me.' Hermione went to her front door, took her coat from the coat hanger and walked out into the corridor outside her flat.

'We're going out?'

'Yes. Come on.'

Ron followed her. Hermione shut her door and sealed it so that only _Alohomora _could open it. After leaving her flat building, they made their way down the sidewalk. After almost a kilometre, Hermione stopped.

'Uh? Where are we?'

Hermione smiled. 'Here.'

'Here? Where is here?'

Hermione pointed to a large building. It had several stone steps leading up to two sets of double doors painted red. Above the doors were circular windows made of yellow and blue stained glass. Above that was a large, old looking bell. Hermione began to climb the steps; she could hear Ron behind her. She opened one of the doors and stepped inside. It was warm and smelled of incense. A fountain stood about three metres in front of them and Hermione went over to it, putting a finger in it and touching her finger to her forehead, then her chest, then each of her shoulders.

'What are you doing?' asked Ron, clearly confused.

'Shh,' Hermione whispered. She took Ron's hand and walked through another set of doors, though these were glass instead of wood. Her heart began to race again as she led Ron down the centre of the large room. Suddenly, he stopped walking.

'This is a church.'

'Yes. Haven't you been in one before?'

'Well, sure. I mean, we _do_ celebrate Christmas, yeah? We just didn't go very often. There's a wizard church in Manchester and another one in McNaab, near Lupin's house in Ireland.' Ron looked around. His eyes lifted and looked up at the ceiling.

Hermione looked up as well. On the ceiling were twelve large paintings – each of the apostles. She smiled. She loved going to church as a small child with her parents.

'Come on.' Hermione pulled Ron up towards the altar. A man in a black robe and a white collar smiled at them. 'Hello, Father.'

'Father?' said Ron.

'He's a priest.'

Ron's eyes narrowed. Hermione had to suppress a laugh; Ron had obviously not figured out what his Christmas present was, yet.

'And you're a witch,' said the priest. 'My mother was a witch. When I got your owl, I knew I'd be more than happy to help you. I felt the need to follow the church – my father was very religious. He didn't like the wizarding churches, so he went to a Muggle one instead. That's how I ended up here. But I'm always more than happy to perform Muggle ceremonies for our resident non-Muggles.'

'Ceremony?'

'Oh, Ron,' said Hermione, exasperatedly, 'you're not _that_ daft.' She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out two, white gold rings. One of the rings flashed orange. 'I had yours enchanted. It turns orange whenever I'm thinking about you and blue whenever I'm missing you. I didn't enchant mine. I thought you could take it and do it yourself.'

Ron blinked.

Hermione swallowed. 'I felt badly that I was such a heel about getting married. I know you don't really want to wait, and after a lot of thought, neither do I. You told me you wouldn't bring up the subject again, and you haven't, which has been wonderful for me. It's given me time to think without feeling pressure from you – or your mum, for that matter. And I thought I'd surprise you for Christmas.'

The priest smiled. 'Are you ready?'

XXXXXXX

It was all Ron could do to keep from crying when he realised what Hermione had done. They made their way back to her flat almost an hour later. Once inside, Hermione threw her arms around Ron and squeezed him hard. Ron felt that familiar tug on his heart as he hugged her back.

'Don't squeeze me to death,' said Ron.

Hermione eased up. 'Sorry,' she said.

'Does this mean you're a Weasley now?'

Hermione looked up into his eyes. 'I thought I'd be a Granger-Weasley. You know, Granger-_hyphen_-Weasley.'

'Ah,' said Ron.

'Is that all right?'

'Do I have a choice?'

Hermione shook her head. She kept on smiling. 'Was it an okay Christmas present?'

'Very okay.' Ron closed his eyes, dipped his head, and breathed in her scent. 'I love you.'

'I know.'

'So much.'

'I looked at your Quidditch schedule and you don't have practise for two weeks for the Christmas holiday. So... we can do the other very-Muggle thing and go on a honeymoon... of sorts. Only for a couple of days because Harry and Mandy are coming. And because I did all this on short notice, but you told me once that you'd never been to the beach. Not a real one, anyway. So I found a wizard hotel on a beach in Italy.'

'How're we going to get there?'

Hermione pointed to the brown package on the coffee table. 'It's a Portkey.'

'_What_?' Ron was truly shocked. 'Fuck, Hermione, you're mad. Absolutely mad. I cannot believe you did all this. My Christmas present for you hardly compares.'

'I'm sure it'll be fine,' said Hermione. 'Want to go?'

'Not yet,' said Ron, licking his lips. 'We've been married for' – he looked at his watch – 'an hour and forty minutes. I _really_ want to be inside you right now.'

Hermione's face reddened.

'Knowing that you did all that really turned me on. I don't think I've ever been hornier in my life.'

'Ron!' said Hermione, sounding scandalised.

Ron pulled Hermione down the hall and into her bedroom. He brought her close to him and fisted his hand in her hair, pulling her head to the side so that he could kiss her neck. He sucked on the skin there, nibbling it, knowing he was going to leave a mark. Hermione moaned and put her hands underneath his shirt and moved them upwards.

EDITED FOR CONTENT

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX


	17. Curses and Hexes

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Seventeen: Curses and Hexes**

XXXXXXX

Harry looked around Grimmauld Place. The old house had been rebuilt by a few members of the Order (namely Lupin, for lack of anything better to do over the summer). There were over twenty guests in the kitchen. Harry clutched Mandy's arm, feeling totally out of place. The house just held too many memories of Sirius.

'Hey!' a voice called out from behind Harry.

He turned and saw Ron coming towards him. 'Sorry, Mandy, but I need to borrow him for a moment.'

Harry looked apologetically at Mandy, but she smiled.

'That's all right. I see my brother over there talking to Mad-Eye. I'm sure he wouldn't mind some rescuing.'

Harry smiled, nodded and followed Ron out of the kitchen. They went up to the first floor where their old bedrooms had been. Hermione was already inside waiting for them. She gave Harry a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

'We wanted to talk to you in private,' said Hermione.

'About the plan?'

'Er...' said Ron. 'Not exactly.'

'We're telling you before we're telling Ron's parents, just so you know.'

'All right,' said Harry, eyes narrowing. 'What is it?'

'We got married,' said Hermione.

Harry blinked. 'What?'

'Four nights ago.'

'But I was at your flat all day yesterday and last night. Why didn't you tell me then?'

'No offence, but we wanted to tell _you_ and not Mandy,' said Ron. 'We would have wanted you to be there, but...'

Harry remembered what Ron had told him at the Three Broomsticks about Hermione's anxieties about having a wedding. It had been _his_ suggestion, after all, that they elope, so he could hardly be angry that they'd taken his advice.

'And we wanted to tell you in person,' continued Hermione. 'You're not angry, are you?'

'No, of course not. I'm happy for you. Although, you do know this is mad, yeah? Your mum is going to kill you.'

Ron sniggered. 'I know. That's why we brought a shovel for when she buries me alive.'

'She hasn't noticed the, er...' Harry nodded towards Ron's hand.

'Oh, the ring? No.'

'You're going to have to tell her eventually,' said Hermione. 'Why don't you go ahead and get it over with?'

'Mum angry is right scary,' said Ron.

'So you aren't going to have a honeymoon or anything?'

'We did,' said Hermione. 'We used a Portkey and went to Italy.'

'When?'

'Just for two days,' said Hermione. 'No one missed us. Ron's Quidditch practises have been postponed for the holiday and Mulciber gave me some time off.'

'What'd you do in Italy?'

Ron snorted. 'What do you think we did?'

'Ah, is that why you look so tired?'

'Harry!' cried Hermione with a scandalised tone to her voice.

'What? If you were only there for two days, I can't imagine you'd have time for much else.'

'Shut up,' said Ron.

'Harry,' said Hermione, changing the subject, 'we want to talk about the plan later. I brought the locating charm with me.' Hermione fished inside her jacket pocket and pulled out a necklace with what looked like a gold coin on the end. 'Just go ahead and wear it. We'll go somewhere and talk after dinner about exactly what we're going to do, all right? I've already discussed things with McGonagall earlier today while you were still getting ready at my flat. We have the back up we'll need when we need it.'

'Good,' said Harry. 'Is this something Mandy can come to?'

'After dinner? Of course,' said Hermione. 'Is she still not your girlfriend?'

'No. We're just friends.'

'Probably best for now. Although, I wouldn't waste too much time. You don't want her finding someone else, do you?'

'_You're_ the one who suggested I give it some time before I go into another relationship. Having Ginny in my classes played with my head enough.'

'I know, but it's been six months since you two broke up.'

'Sure, six months since the break up, but there were all those mind games...' Harry trailed off and glanced at Ron.

'What mind games?' asked Ron.

'Nothing,' said Hermione, clearly trying to ignore her boyfriend – _no_, corrected Harry, _husband_. 'I know what I said, but it's been several months since _that_ happened as well. I would go for it as long as you're sure there are no lingering thoughts of Ginny in your mind.'

Harry shook his head. 'No.' He shoved his hands in pockets. 'Well, I still think about her sometimes... because, y'know, what we had was good when we had it. It's hard not to live in the past, when things were good, when there's a Dark wizard trying to kill half the people you know.'

Hermione smiled. 'I know. We should probably head down to dinner.'

XXXXXXX

'Pass the butter, will ya?' asked Ron, looking at George.

George lifted his wand and Banished the butter, sending it flying across the table towards Ron.

'Where's that really pretty girlfriend of yours?' asked Michael Brocklehurst.

'With her parents,' said George. 'She wanted me to come, but I've got enough Howlers over the years from Mum not to add another one about not coming to Christmas dinner.'

Michael smirked and his eyes shifted over to Mrs Weasley who was in conversation with Charlie. 'I wouldn't want her to get angry with me, either.' Turning back to George he said, 'Your mum scares me, too. I think she enjoys yelling at us. Although, she is rather nice, making us dinner and everything.'

'Yeah, why aren't you with your family?' asked Fred.

'Patrols through the Ministry,' said Michael. 'We've been doing a lot of them lately. We'd like to think that they're helping cut down on kidnappings.' Michael shrugged.

'Not _everyone_ gets to patrol,' mutter Tonks, who was sitting across from Michael and next to George.

Ron, who was between Michael and Hermione with Harry and Mandy near him, but on the other side of the table, narrowed his eyes. 'You don't get to patrol?'

'_No_,' said Tonks with an irritated tone to her voice.

'You're _pregnant_,' said Remus. 'You can't fight—'

'I most certainly _can_,' said Tonks.

Remus shook his head. 'Not in the same way you used to fight. I'm surprised you're even eating anything tonight, as sick as you've been.'

Tonks frowned and grumbled into her food. 'This is all your fault.'

'All _my_ fault? I believe there're two people involved in making a baby, Tonks.'

Ron sniggered.

'And if you'd only take that morning sickness potion—'

'What – Be Sick No More? That stuff is foul. It tastes so awful I can barely drink enough to have it even work. Even then, I usually throw the stuff up.'

'That's true,' whispered Hermione. 'Most potions taste foul. If we ever get pregnant, hopefully they'll have better tasting potions by then.'

Ron nearly fell out of his chair. '_What_?'

'IF!' cried Hermione. 'I said _if_.'

Mrs Weasley stood up as Ron tried to reposition himself back on his chair. 'What in the name of Merlin – Ron, what do you think you're – falling out of your chair!'

Ron swallowed. 'Er, sorry. Just had a start is all.'

'I thought you'd got cursed with a case of bad manners, falling out of your chair like that.'

'I didn't _fall_,' said Ron. 'Just... almost.'

'Well, are you all right now?'

'I'm—'

'What's that?' interrupted Mrs Weasley.

'What's what?' asked Ron.

'That on your finger.'

Ron curled his hand into an awkward fist, using his other fingers to hide his ring. 'Nothing.'

'_Ron_,' hissed Hermione.

Mrs Weasley crossed the table and walked over to Ron. He sat on his hands.

'_Ron_!' Hermione hissed again.

Mrs Weasley held out her hand. 'Let me see it.'

Ron swallowed. He could feel everyone's eyes on him. Hermione elbowed him hard in the side and his head whirled around to her.

'What?' he said.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and in his moment of distraction, Mrs Weasley grabbed his arm and yanked his hand from under him. She looked at his finger.

'RONALD!' she cried. She tried yanking the ring off, but it wouldn't budge.

'What are you doing?'

'It won't come off!'

'Well, of _course_ it won't!' snapped Ron. 'It's a wedding ring; it's charmed on.'

The entire room went silent and Ron could feel all eyes on him. His face heated up and he knew he was sporting the famous Weasley blush. He tried to think of something to say, but his mind was blank.

'Did you get married?'

'Yes,' said Ron slowly.

'When?'

'A couple of nights ago.'

Mrs Weasley looked at Hermione. 'And you just went along with this daft idea?'

'I don't think it was a daft idea and it was _my_ idea.'

Mrs Weasley looked as if she was at a loss for words. '_Your_ idea? Well I never.' She glared at Hermione. 'You two went off and got married without even thinking that anyone else might want to be present.'

'Mum,' said Ron in a warning tone, 'it wasn't your decision. Besides, why do you care? You got to see Bill, Charlie, and Fred married. You'll get to see Percy and George and Ginny get married. Six out of seven isn't bad.'

'But—'

'No, Mum. Look, not everything is about how you feel and what you want to do. This is what was good for us, all right?'

Mrs Weasley looked rather speechless. Ron figured it must have been a very long time since one of her children stood up to her. She ruled the roost and she ruled it well.

'Just say you're happy for us, please, and not hex us?'

Mrs Weasley snorted. She looked rigid for a moment, but then her face melted into a small smile. 'Of course I'll be happy for you, especially since you've finally made an honest woman out of Hermione.' Then, she paused. 'You didn't _have_ to get married, did you?'

Hermione's eyes bulged. 'No!' she cried. 'We didn't have to get married and we're not planning anything like that.'

'No?' Mrs Weasley looked almost disappointed.

'No,' Hermione confirmed.

'What?' said Ron, totally confused.

'Shh,' said Hermione.

'I don't get it.'

'I know you don't,' said Hermione. 'Just shh.'

'I don't want to _shh_.'

'I'd listen to your _wife_, if I was you,' said George with a snigger. 'She's the one you have to go home to, now.'

Ron shot George a glare before looking back to Hermione. 'But—'

'For heaven's _sake_, Ron!' cried Hermione. 'Your mum wanted to know if we had to get married because I was pregnant. Which is _not_ true,' she added, looking at Mrs Weasley.

Ron opened his eyes really wide, feeling shocked. His faced turned redder as his brothers laughed.

'Well, don't try too hard,' said Mrs Weasley. 'I'm already going to be a grandmother in a few months. Although I imagine a little Ron running about would be fun...'

Fred snorted. 'Yeah, right. Red hair and nose stuck in a book.'

'Bushy red hair,' said Charlie with a laugh.

'Don't hurt yourselves when you do try to have a baby,' said Bill.

'Oh my God,' said Ron.

'Although I'm sure you've had a lot of practise already,' said Fred with a wink.

'Okay, stop,' warned Ron.

'If practise makes perfect,' said George, 'you two must be flawless.'

'_Stop_,' said Ron. 'Please stop.' He covered his face with his hands, his elbows on the table. He felt Hermione's hand on his knee. She gave it a little squeeze and he turned his head and smiled at her.

'It doesn't matter,' Hermione whispered in his ear so no one else could hear him. 'We're married now... none of what they say matters because we're married.'

Ron nodded. She was right.

'Well, if you insist on being married you might as well move all your stuff out,' said Mrs Weasley, sitting back down in her chair. 'I'll give you two days, otherwise it's going in the rubbish bin.' After that, she turned her attention to Charlie.

XXXXXXX

After dinner, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Mandy Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. Mrs Weasley insisted that they take Ginny with them, to get her out of her hair while she cleaned the kitchen. Ginny had to go to the pub via Floo powder, as she hadn't taken her Apparation test. In order to make sure Ginny didn't sit with them, Ron told her to owl her boyfriend and get him to Floo to the Leaky Cauldron as well.

'At least that way she won't feel excluded,' he had said, 'and we can get down to business.'

Harry was grateful. When Stebbins tumbled through the fireplace, he'd said hello to his professor before grinning broadly at Ginny and hugging her around the waist. Harry watched them for a moment and realised that he couldn't remember the last time he felt a pang in his chest when he saw them together. He simply didn't care. Remembering the good times they had no longer made him sad. Suddenly, Harry felt triumphant; he'd got over Ginny, completely and fully. Perhaps now they could be _real_ friends.

'Are you listening, Harry?' asked Hermione.

Harry looked up. 'What? Sorry.' He took a sip of his Butterbeer. 'Lost in my thoughts.'

Hermione gave him a small smile. 'It's all right.'

'It's just hard to concentrate... with getting no sleep and all.' Harry yawned. 'See?'

'I was saying that I've got all the ingredients for the potion,' continued Hermione. 'It's already brewed. If we turn on the locating charm and find you, then we can use the potion if McDougal shows up.'

'What does the potion do?'

'Well, basically one of us has to Stun him so I can get him to drink the potion. It's not like the last one where once it was made, it would kill the soul of the person we want it to. This one isn't made specifically for one person. Once he drinks it, any essence he has acquired will flee his body and dissipate.' Hermione pulled a small vial out of her jeans pocket. 'I shrunk the vial and put an Unbreakable Charm on it.' She smiled.

'Sounds rather brilliant,' said Harry.

'Thanks.' Hermione put the vial back in her pocket. 'This way, we don't have to kill McDougal. We can capture him and let the Aurors arrest him and send him to prison.'

'Good,' said Harry, 'because I don't want to kill another wizard. One was enough.'

'We'll go to the Ministry tomorrow. I'm _sure_ if they see you, they'll take you. Then I can use the locating charm to find you and we'll all come and fight whatever former Death Eaters are there.'

'Good,' said Harry. He looked at his Butterbeer. 'Thanks,' he said softly.

'For what?' asked Ron.

'Helping. Always being there. I was a right git over the summer and you're still here, still my friends.'

Hermione reached over the table and took Harry's hand. 'We'll always be here for you. We understand about the summer, though. You killed Voldemort. He was the Darkest wizard in the history of magic, but he was still such a strong part of your life. He had an influence on almost everything you did, even if the influence wasn't good. So for him to suddenly be gone and gone for good, it would take time for you to deal with all that.'

Harry continued to look at his Butterbeer, but Hermione's hand felt very warm in his.

'Thanks for understanding, then.' Harry looked up and met Hermione's eyes. She was smiling. Then, he glanced at Ron who looked as though he was having a battle with his mouth, but his mouth ended up winning and he smiled. Next to him, Mandy moved her hips to nudge him. He couldn't help but smile at her. She was just so... so... so something, but whatever that something was, he liked it. A lot.

XXXXXXX

Ginny sat with her back to her brother, new sister-in-law, and Harry. She knew the only reason her brother would ever allow Stebbins near his presence was to keep her occupied. Whatever they wanted to talk about over at their table, it was obvious she was not invited.

'Do you want a Butterbeer or anything?'

Ginny shook her head. 'No, I'm all right.'

'How was your holiday? Did Father Christmas bring you anything?'

'A Weasley jumper,' said Ginny. 'Mum knits a sweater for each of us every year. Mine's green.'

'I got you a Christmas present,' said Stebbins. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. 'Here.'

Ginny took the box. It was wrapped neatly in gold paper and tied with a red ribbon. 'You wrapped it in Gryffindor colours.' Stebbins nodded and Ginny pulled the ribbon. When she took off the wrapping paper, she opened the box and peered inside. She pulled out a... tape?

'It's a tape of music,' said Stebbins. 'It should play on the same radio that you get the WNN on. I mean, it's full of Muggle music, but I sort of charmed the tape to play by magic... Anyway, it's all the bands I think you would like. Some of them sound kind of like the Weird Sisters.' Stebbins shrugged. 'Truth? I had _no_ idea what you might want. I've never seen you wear jewellery and I'd heard that you never buy a girl clothes.'

'Why not?'

'Well... if you buy clothes that are too big then they'll think you think they're fat. If you buy clothes that are too small then they'll think you think they should be thinner.'

Ginny raised her eyebrows. What on earth was he talking about? 'You could always just charm the clothes to fit, couldn't you?'

'I don't know, I suppose. Perhaps it's just what I've heard in the Muggle world. That's what my father told me at any rate.'

'Well, that's silly, but I'm glad you didn't get me jewellery or clothes. This is great. I'll listen to it when we get back to Hogwarts. I think Colin still has his radio in his dorm.'

'You go to the boys' dormitory?'

Ginny laughed. 'Just with _Colin_.'

Stebbins laughed, too. 'Well, I suppose going anywhere with Colin isn't very worrisome. Although I have been dying to know something. I'm surprised you and Colin remained friends...'

'We were never best mates or anything.'

'Never mind. I shouldn't be bringing it up.'

'How shouldn't Colin and I be friends?' Ginny studied Stebbins' face. Then, she got it. 'You mean because of Colin's crush on Harry?'

Stebbins shrugged. 'Let's not talk about exes, all right?'

'You brought it up. Colin's infatuated with Harry.'

'I know,' said Stebbins, 'which is why I'm surprised you two are still friends.'

Ginny shrugged. 'I honestly don't know how.' Truth was, she and Colin never discussed it. Colin still hero-worshiped Harry and while Ginny felt sorry for anyone with an unrequited love, she had never felt comfortable talking about it with Colin.

'Are you all right?' asked Stebbins. 'You don't look particularly happy. I didn't mean to bring up Harry. I shouldn't have.'

Ginny sighed. 'It's not that. My father's missing. Rebecca's missing. She was taken right in front of me. I could've done something, but I couldn't find my wand and I feel horrible about it.'

'I wish I could make you feel better.'

'Yeah, me too.'

'It's not your fault, though.'

'I know, but I'm still playing the What-If game. Y'know, what if I could have found my wand? What if I could have kept her from being kidnapped? I sound like Harry... blaming myself.'

'Let's not talk about Harry,' said Stebbins.

'You look upset. You've never cared about bringing him up before. He _is_ our professor, after all.'

'I didn't want to bring it up – and I wasn't going to – but I didn't realise you were going to be spending your holiday with your ex-boyfriend.'

'Oh, that wasn't my idea. Blame Ron and Hermione for that. I didn't even know about it.'

Stebbins looked at his hands, folded on the table. He didn't look remotely convinced.

'Stebbins,' said Ginny. 'I didn't know.'

'It's fine. Leave it.'

Ginny opened her mouth to say more, but she noticed that Stebbins' head shot up and looked at something behind her, his mouth open. She turned around, just as five, heavily-cloaked wizards came into the pub. Beams of different coloured light emitted from their wands as they yelled spells, Banishing tables and chairs and Stunning the Leaky Cauldron patrons.

Stebbins grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her hard to a corner of the pub. He wrapped his arms around her, but it didn't make Ginny feel any safer. She watched, horrified, as the wizards Stunned the entirety of the unsuspecting pub before turning their attention to where her brother sat.

XXXXXXX

The moment the former Death Eaters entered the Leaky Cauldron, Ron shoved Hermione to the floor and covered her with his body. He watched as hexes and curses flew overhead. It was so unexpected that Ron didn't have time to think. He didn't have time to search through his coat pockets for his wand, only to go with his instincts, which were to protect Hermione.

It was a mad cacophony of shouts and thuds as people were Stunned. The cloaked wizards managed to deflect the spells sent their way, but the pub was only half-full anyway. Most of the customers were there by themselves, witches and wizards who didn't have a family to spend the holiday with.

'Get up,' one of the former Death Eaters growled.

Ron felt himself being lifted up and tossed into a chair. Next to him, Hermione was also thrown, as was Mandy. A second Death Eater pointed his wand at Harry who was standing up, wand in hand.

'You,' said the first Death Eater, 'are to come with us.'

Ron could only see the back of Harry's head, but he was sure his best mate looked rather pissed off. He did not like being told what to do.

'Come with you? Why?'

'There's a matter that needs settling,' said the second Death Eater.

'Oh,' said Harry, 'with McDougal? Was he too chicken to come here himself and face me? Had to send in his minions to do it for him?'

'_Abscindere venas_!' the first Death Eater shouted.

Harry cried out in pain and clutched his left arm. The curse had successfully ripped open a vein and blood dripped to the floor. Ron watched the drops of blood splash as they hit the stone beneath Harry's feet. Anger rose in him and he went to stand up, to defend Harry.

'_SIT DOWN_!' a third Death Eater cried. He pointed his wand at Ron and immediately, Ron felt magical ropes tie his feet to the chair and his hands behind his back. He struggled against the invisible restraints, but Ron knew it was of no use.

'There's two more, sir, hiding,' the second Death Eater whispered to the first, pointing a long, skinny finger to a corner.

Ron turned and his stomach plummeted. His sister and her git of a boyfriend were huddled together quietly. Ginny looked terrified and on the verge of tears.

'Take the boy,' ordered the first Death Eater. 'He smells of vermin.' His eyes travelled over to Hermione. 'So does she.'

'Don't take her!' cried Ron, struggling against the ropes. 'Please!'

The Death Eater smiled. 'I suppose I could leave her here'—

Ron exhaled and slowed down his struggling.

—'and take the other redhead instead.'

Did he mean..? No, not Ginny.

'I won't let you,' said Harry forcefully.

'How do you plan on stopping us? There're five of us and in case you hadn't noticed, your friends are all tied up.'

Harry glanced behind him. His eyes settled on Mandy and his entire face dropped; a look of sadness and guilt took over his features and his eyes looked wet. Turning back around, he said, 'What do you plan on doing to me?'

'Nothing. We'll let McDougal decide that.'

'What is he? Your new Dark Lord?' asked Harry, the hatred apparent in his voice.

'No one could ever replace the Dark Lord. He is merely trying to continue his good work.'

'Good work? _Good work_? You lot are mad. Fine, whatever, take me,' said Harry, 'but I'm keeping my wand and I'll use it if you try anything before we get to McDougal. I defeated Voldemort. I imagine I can take on the likes of you.'

The Death Eater nodded and pointed to the door. The other four Death Eaters went to the door, two of them taking Ginny and Stebbins with them. The remaining wizard looked at Ron, Hermione, and Mandy. He raised his wand.

'_Stupefy_.'

And Ron saw black.

XXXXXXX

'Ron. _Ron_.'

Something was shaking Ron. His head felt heavy.

'Ron! _Ennervate_!'

'Why isn't it working?' a different voice asked.

'Oh, it's working. He's just too thick-headed to wake up.'

Well, now that certainly sounded like Hermione. He opened his eyes. Hermione and Mandy were both looking at him.

'What happened?'

'Death Eaters came into the pub,' said Hermione. 'They Stunned everyone and took Ginny and her boyfriend—'

'Stebbins,' offered Mandy.

'Yes, Stebbins. Harry went with them. I have the locating charm in my pocket. I'm guessing they took him to where all the missing witches and wizards are. I don't think they're smart enough to go somewhere different.'

Ron nodded. 'My head hurts.'

Hermione took out her wand and tapped Ron's forehead. A warmth washed over his head and the achy feeling slowly left.

'Thanks,' he said with a smile. 'I knew you'd come in handy.'

Hermione smiled back. 'Mandy already Flooed McGonagall. She's going to send Aurors to meet us at the Ministry.'

'Are you sure Harry's at the Ministry?'

'Yes,' answered Hermione without hesitation.

'All right.' Ron got up and wiggled his wrists, which were a bit sore. Hermione must have taken the magical ropes off him. 'Let's do it.'

XXXXXXX

The charm felt just like a Portkey. It tugged them and when they landed, they fell against each other. Within seconds, they all had their wands out and were looking around. Hermione whirled around, her brows writ in confusion.

'What the fuck?' said Ron.

Hermione shook her head, ignoring Ron's blatant use of the f-word. 'I don't know.'

They were in a circular room. The room was lined with cell-doors, each one made of steel with a small window cut at the top, and they stacked up two high all around the room. The doors didn't have any handles or keyholes, so Hermione surmised they must be opened and closed magically. The only doors in the room were the cell doors; there didn't seem to be an entrance or exit anywhere.

'I thought you said that that charm would transport us within ten feet of Harry,' said Mandy.

'It did. He must be in one of these cells.'

Mandy pointed her wand at one of the doors. '_Alohomora_.' Nothing happened.

'Wait,' said Ron. 'Ginny?' he called. 'Dad?'

'Harry?'

The room remained silent.

'Ginny!'

'Ron!' a small voice cried out.

Hermione turned at the voice. She followed Ron to one of the cells. He looked inside and gave out a small cry. Hermione could see a bit of red hair inside the cell. Ginny. Thank God.

'Stebbins is in the cell next to me. He tried resisting and they hit him with something. I dunno what. Can you get me out?'

'Is Dad here?' asked Ron.

'I dunno. I haven't heard any noise until you three came.' Ginny sniffled. 'They have Harry upstairs. They said they're going to let him rot here. "Death is too dignified..." or so they said.'

'Upstairs? How do we get upstairs?' asked Hermione.

'I dunno. The ceiling drops down. That's how we got down here.'

'Where is here?' asked Ron.

'The Ministry. The ceiling is the floor to one of the wizard courtrooms.' Ginny sniffled again. 'Please get me out,' she whispered.

They all froze as a creaking noise sounded out above their heads. The ceiling cracked and began to lower.

'They're coming back,' whispered Ginny.

Hermione, Ron, and Mandy stepped away and watched as the ceiling lowered. There were three Death Eaters on it, all covered in the same robes and hoods, the colour of dried blood. Harry was in the middle of them, floating half a metre above the floor.

'What on earth?' breathed Ron.

'I don't know.' Hermione couldn't imagine that Harry would have been reduced to that so quickly – limp, dazed, and under someone else's control.

'Ah,' said one of the Death Eaters as the ceiling met the floor below. 'Look who's joined us. I should have known. You couldn't stay away, could you?' He lowered his hood and revealed the face of an older man with sharp features and beady eyes. McDougal.

'We came to rescue Harry,' said Hermione. 'And everyone else you kidnapped.'

McDougal laughed. 'You'll never get them out. I'm the only one with the power to open the vaults. But why don't I let a couple of them go? Just for fun.' He pointed his wand at two of the vaults and opened them. The steel doors slowly swung open silently. The other two Death Eaters went to the doors and pulled Ginny and Stebbins out of the cells.

Hermione raised her wand. 'Let them go.'

McDougal laughed again.

'_Stupefy_,' Hermione shouted, pointing her wand at the Death Eater that had Ginny. He fell to the floor in an unmoving heap. Immediately, Hermione had to throw up a shield – '_Protego_!' – as a Stunner came belting at her. Her shield deflected the curse, though, and Hermione pointed her wand at the other Death Eater.

Ron was quicker, though, and Stunned him before the words left Hermione's mouth. Stebbins grabbed Ginny and hugged her to him, both of them breathing heavily.

'Don't think about reviving them,' said Ron acidly to McDougal. 'And take whatever spell Harry is under off him. Or else I'll throw one of the Unforgivable Curses at you.'

McDougal smiled. 'I doubt that,' he said. 'Harry's under my spell and always will be.' His wand pointed straight at Harry. He muttered something and Harry's feet touched the floor. Harry's eyes blinked. '_Expelliarmus_!'

Hermione felt her wand being ripped from her hand and fly towards McDougal. Her heart raced as Ron and Mandy's wands also flew into McDougal's outstretched hand. He was powerful enough to disarm all of them at once... what else was he powerful enough to do? Oh, no, this was bad... very, very bad. Where, oh _where_, were the Aurors? Surely they'd be at the Ministry by now.

'What do you plan on doing now? I know,' said McDougal with a nasty smile, 'I'll make you watch as Harry kills each of you.'

'What?' Mandy's voice hitched. 'No, Harry would never do that.'

'He would and he will. _Imperio_.'

Harry's body remained limp and his mouth opened slightly.

'Harry's immune to the Imperius Curse,' said Ron. 'He won't do anything.'

'You think so?'

'Yes,' said Ron. 'I think so.'

'Well, as I've slowly been driving him insane, we'll see. Kill him,' said McDougal, pointing to Stebbins. 'Kill the blonde boy.'

Harry raised his wand in his limp hand and pointed it at Stebbins. '_Avada Kedavra_,' he said hoarsely.

The next few moments were a frenzy of curses and hexes. A band of Aurors showed up, jumping down from the floor above, and pointing their wands at McDougal. Ron and Hermione jumped out the way, and watched as McDougal Disapparated, dropping their wands. They grabbed them and raised them, but it was useless. McDougal was gone and his two Death Eaters were still Stunned on the floor.

'What happened?' asked Kingsley, breathing hard.

'We used a Portkey to get here,' said Mandy, 'and then McDougal and two of his followers came in... and Hermione and Ron Stunned them, but McDougal got our wands.'

'Then he put Harry under the Imperius Curse,' said Ron slowly, but his voice was disbelieving.

'But Harry's immune to the Imperius Curse,' said Mad-Eye from behind Kingsley.

Hermione shook her head. 'No, he's not...'

Everyone turned and looked at Ginny, who was on her knees, crying. The scene was suddenly much more tragic as everyone fell silent and stared at the sobbing redhead, settled between three unmoving bodies. The Death Eaters were unconscious, but would live. Stebbins on the other hand...

Stebbins was dead.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX

A/N: For those of you who asked for the website for the full text... like I said, go to and look for the story. It's the same title. You should be able to find it very easily. It can be found in The Bedchamber over there. Happy reading.


	18. Imperius Curses and Disguises

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Eighteen: Imperius Curses and Disguises **

XXXXXXX

Ron stumbled into Hermione's room – er, _their_ room – feeling dejected and confused. Hermione Apparated in just a moment later and they stood looking at one another, the silence encircling them and making them anxious.

'Did that really just happen?' whispered Hermione.

Ron nodded. 'Yes. I think so.'

Three hours ago, he and Hermione had used her location charm to find Harry. Mandy had come with them, eager to help the cause. Harry had been ten feet above their heads. Then, the ceiling came down... Ron shuddered. McDougal had used the Imperius Curse on Harry and made him... Ginny was in a right state, sobbing until she fell limp and in some sort of comatose condition.

_'You're immune to the Imperius Curse, Potter,' Moody had growled when he took it upon himself to question everyone about what had happened to David Stebbins. 'So just how did you manage to kill Stebbins?'_

_ 'I don't know,' Harry had replied. 'I don't remember.'_

_ 'You don't remember being put under the Imperius?'_

_ 'No.'_

_ 'Don't lie to me! Always one eye open! How could you allow someone to take over you like that?'_

_ 'One eye open? That's easy for you to say, you can see out of the back of your head!' cried Harry._

_ 'You have to be careful! None of this, "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived so no one can hurt me" nonsense!'_

_ 'Hey!' Mandy had cried out, interrupting Mad-Eye's tirade. 'Harry's been under a lot of stress. He hasn't been sleeping well and McDougal is a very powerful wizard. It's no wonder he fell subject to the curse.'_

_ 'No wonder? _No wonder_? Who are you, anyway?' Mad-Eye's mad eye looked Mandy up and down and Ron got shivers down his spine, knowing that Moody could see whatever he wanted to see with that magical eye. Ron hoped Moody wouldn't look too closely at him; he was wearing black boxers with pink hearts on them._

_ 'I'm Mandy Brocklehurst,' replied Mandy, standing up a bit straighter._

_ 'Ah, your brother's an Auror and what are you?'_

_ 'A librarian.'_

_ Mad-Eye howled. '_You_?'_

_ 'Moody,' warned Remus from a few metres away. 'Calm down. Do you really think Harry would kill a boy in coldblood?'_

_ Mad-Eye observed Harry again. 'I don't know. Would you?'_

Ron was interrupted from his thoughts as Hermione's arms encircled his waist. She breathed in deeply and cleared her throat.

'I don't understand.'

'Neither do I.'

Hermione pulled back and opened the door to her closet. She pulled her shirt up and over her head. 'Harry's seemed tired, but he never seemed as though he was no longer powerful.'

'McDougal caught him by surprise, I'm sure. Harry would never willingly go under the Imperius Curse... would he?'

Hermione shrugged. 'I don't know anymore. He always fought so hard.' She undid her jeans and kicked them off. 'He might have wanted to give up in the past, but he never actually did. He's a fighter. I don't know what's wrong with him.'

'Maybe those dreams have affected him more than we thought.'

'But he's been so coherent it never occurred to me that maybe the dreams were affecting his magical powers.' Hermione tugged a nightshirt off a hanger and held it in her hand, looking as if she was deep in thought. 'Perhaps that's what happened... Perhaps the dreams had an unseen effect.'

'Don't.'

Hermione raised her eyebrows. 'Don't what?'

'Don't put that nightshirt on. I like it when you sleep with nothing on.'

'Ron...' Hermione gave him a sad smile. 'I'm just – I don't think I could concentrate—'

'I know, me neither.' Ron stepped closer, looking at the dip of Hermione's neck, right where it met her shoulder. He bent his head down and kissed her skin. Lifting up her bra strap, Ron slid it down her arm before kissing her bare shoulder. 'No sex,' he said, 'just starkers.'

Hermione giggled. 'You, too?'

'Sure.'

'Why do you want me to sleep naked?'

'Why not?' Ron smiled cheekily.

Hermione sighed. 'Okay...'

'So, when I move my stuff in, can my Keeper poster go right over the bed?'

'Ron,' said Hermione warningly.

'Okay, okay. We can put it above your mirror.'

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully. 'I'll give you half of the study as long as you keep your Quidditch posters out of my room.'

'Our room,' corrected Ron.

'Yes. Our room.'

XXXXXXX

Ginny was sent back to Hogwarts; it was safer there than anywhere else, even safer than the newly-restored Grimmauld Place. Her mother went with her, for support, but Ginny just wanted to be alone. She knew that the Order feared for her safety, but she wanted to be anywhere but at school. McGonagall tried to talk Ron and Hermione into staying at Grimmauld Place or accompany Ginny back to Hogwarts, but they refused and instead, Kingsley and Tonks went to Hermione's flat and put up more wards on it – anti-Apparation ones like Hogwarts had. It was good to know that no one could Floo, Apparate, or Portkey into the flat... but Ginny's mind wasn't really on that at the moment.

'Gin?'

Ginny sniffled. She was curled up under a blanket up in the high Astronomy Tower. The cold air felt good against her cheeks, which were still damp from her tears. She didn't turn towards the voice, but she knew it was Colin.

'Someone told me you came back early from holiday. I've been looking everywhere for you. _Finally_, another seventh-year to – is something wrong?'

Ginny turned her head and looked at Colin.

'What's wrong?' Colin frowned. He kneeled down next to her. 'Is it Harry? Oh, no, silly question? Is it Stebbins?'

Fresh tears filled Ginny's eyes and she blinked, then looked away.

'Did he break up with you? That git. I'll kill him for you, if you want.'

Ginny shook her head. 'No, you can't kill him... he's already...'

'Already what?'

'Already dead,' whispered Ginny.

Colin was silent. She heard him swallow and exhale a large breath. 'He's what?'

Ginny told him the story, stopping every few moments to swallow back sobs that were threatening to break loose. Colin sat, listening, his eyebrows knitted together, his lips turned into a frown.

'That doesn't sound like Harry.'

'Well, it was.'

'But I thought...'

'Yes, we all thought he was immune.' Ginny sniffled. 'But he wasn't. Oh, _fuck_.' She fell into Colin, new tears dripping down her cheeks. 'It's not fair. I was truly happy with Stebbins... I mean we... fought sometimes... like most couples... but we... complemented one... one... one another,' Ginny sputtered out between hiccupped sobs. She cried against Colin's lap for several minutes before whispering, 'I could have loved him.'

Colin smoothed out Ginny's hair while gently shh'ing her. Ginny couldn't look at him. She didn't want to see the sadness that was surely in Colin's eyes; she didn't want to see him cry; and she didn't want to see the disappointment, the betrayal riddled in his face at the realisation that the object of his infatuation had committed murder.

'What's, er, going to happen to Harry?'

Ginny sniffed and rubbed at her eyes; they were sore and stung from crying. 'He was questioned afterwards by Moody and other Aurors.'

'Why weren't the Aurors there in the beginning?'

'Hermione said they were going to meet them there, but the Aurors had trouble getting into the room where we were...'

'You feel hot,' said Colin, placing the back of his hand on Ginny's forehead. 'Do you want me to walk you to the hospital wing? I bet Madam Pomfrey could give you something.'

'I don't have a fever,' said Ginny.

'You're very upset,' said Colin. 'What about something to help you sleep?'

Ginny nodded against Colin's lap. 'Yeah,' she said. 'I don't think I could sleep otherwise.'

Ginny let Colin help her stand and take her arm as they went back inside the castle and down to the hospital wing.

XXXXXXX

It was snowing heavily by the time Mandy made it back to Hogwarts. Even though she thought Ron and Hermione were the nicest of people, she didn't want to stay at their flat without Harry there. She wasn't part of their group, even though she was sure Harry wanted her to be. The feelings she got when she was with Harry reminded her of how she felt when she was a second-year and lusting after Oliver Wood. He was so burly and muscular and spoke with such a beautiful Irish accent... and he was brilliant at Quidditch. She didn't go to the games, but everyone knew he was a marvellous Keeper and talked about it during the Quidditch season. That crush as a twelve-year-old made her feel giddy whenever she was within a hundred feet of him. It made her smile and blush and feel tingly all over.

Harry made her feel tingly all over.

She didn't want to be that rebound girl for Harry. She wanted a real relationship and she thought that was what Harry wanted as well. He was keeping his distance, making sure he was fully over Ginny, but Mandy could tell there were several times where he wanted to kiss her. Not to mention that he had told her he fancied her.

Now, though, Harry was a murderer twice over. She could hardly count You-Know-Who, but David Stebbins... a student... just a boy without a wand and Harry had taken his life. Imperius Curse or no Imperius Curse, it was something that Mandy wasn't sure she could get over.

'What are you staring at?' snapped Harry.

Mandy blinked. They were standing in the entrance hall at Hogwarts. Harry was looking around, his eyes settling on the doors to the Great Hall.

'Er, nothing. Are you all right?'

'I'm fine.'

'D'you want to, y'know, talk about it?'

Harry shook his head. 'No.'

'I think it might make you feel better.'

'I just killed a man,' barked Harry, 'so how in the name of fucking _Merlin_ do you think you're going to make me feel better.'

'I – I don't know,' stammered Mandy. 'I just thought—'

'Such a girl. Talking doesn't _heal_ things.'

'Don't be mean, Harry,' said Mandy.

'I'll be mean if I want to. I don't want to talk about it. I don't care if we ever talk about it. You just go to your quarters and I'll go to mine, all right?'

'But—'

'I do _not_ want to talk about it, all right? Shite, just leave me the fuck alone.'

Mandy frowned. 'You know what I think?'

'No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me.'

'I think that you don't want to talk about it because you're glad Stebbins is dead. Somewhere underneath you never liked him. Ginny was happier with him than she was with you. You overshadowed her. She was never your equal and you hated Stebbins for being hers.'

'So you think I killed him on purpose? That I wasn't really under the Imperius Curse?'

'Were you?' Mandy's heart began to race as she waited for Harry's response.

'No.'

Mandy let out a strangled breath. 'What?'

'You heard me.'

'Are you _serious_? How could you do that? You're sick.' Mandy began to back up, away from Harry. Shock filled her body and her mind couldn't string together any coherent thoughts. She felt so utterly confused.

'I'm immune to the Imperius Curse.' Harry pulled his wand from his pocket. 'Now leave me alone or I'll use the Killing Curse on you, too.'

XXXXXXX

The next morning Ginny left the hospital wing after one of the house-elves brought her breakfast on a neat tray. She felt better – physically, anyway. She didn't feel like going back to Gryffindor Tower, so she walked through the castle in a bit of a daze. After almost an hour, Ginny found her feet had taken her to the library. It was void of any students, but Mandy was at the desk, tapping a quill against the wood.

'Hi,' said Ginny.

Mandy looked up. 'Oh, hi.'

'I don't think we've ever had a conversation before.'

Mandy shook her head. 'Me neither.'

'I'm sure you know who I am, though.'

Mandy nodded. 'I'm sorry about... well... you know.'

Ginny offered her a small smile. 'Thanks.'

'Did you come here looking for something?'

'I was just walking around and this is where my feet took me.'

'Oh. Well, I'm glad you stopped by, for what it's worth. We've never had a chance to talk.'

'We've never had anything to talk about,' said Ginny.

'I suppose. Except, we both have invested emotions with Harry, don't we? I mean, he was your boyfriend once and he's a friend of mine now.'

'A friend?'

'Yes.'

'I thought you two were...'

'We're not together,' said Mandy, looking away.

'Ohh. You both stayed at Hermione's flat so I thought... well... never mind. Is it all right for me to hate him? Even though he was under the Imperius Curse?'

Mandy closed her eyes tightly. Ginny wondered why the older girl looked so pained.

'If someone is truly under an Imperius Curse, then, no, I don't think we should blame them... but... if someone is immune to the curse...'

'What do you mean?'

'Harry's immune to the curse.'

Ginny shook her head. 'Apparently not.'

'Listen to me, Ginny,' said Mandy sharply. 'I don't want to have to tell you this, but this is not something I can keep a secret. Harry _is_ immune to the Imperius Curse.'

Ginny didn't respond. She stood there, shocked, staring at Mandy.

'He told me,' Mandy said softly, 'last night.'

Something inside of Ginny snapped and she turned around quickly and ran for the door. She vaguely heard Mandy shouting at her to slow down, but she was running too hard, too fast to bother slowing down. She flew down the staircases and through the corridors, ignoring the portraits as they yelled at her to stop running. Barely even stopping to compose herself, Ginny tugged open the door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and ran through it to the second door in the room which led to Harry's office. Through there, Ginny opened up the door to his quarters, and there he was... reading a book on his sofa.

'What is _wrong_ with you?' demanded Ginny, breathing hard.

'Nice of you to knock.'

'Shut up! Mandy told me you're immune to the Imperius Curse!'

Harry's eyes flicked to behind Ginny and she could hear the breathing of another person – Mandy.

'Did she? That was nice of her.' Harry put his book down. 'What do you want me to say?'

'I don't know. How could you? How could you just _kill_ someone? They'll find out, y'know. I'll tell them.'

'Them who?'

'McGonagall. Hermione. Ron. Everyone. Mum.'

Harry stood up. 'You wouldn't! Your mum loves me. I'd like to keep it that way.'

'You KILLED someone! _My_ boyfriend! He never did anything to you.'

'I'm sorry,' said Harry, but it didn't sound genuine. 'These dreams have rattled my brain. I can fight the Imperius Curse, but I was so tired. I couldn't think straight. I killed Stebbins because I thought that's what I was supposed to do.'

'But you're immune!' cried Ginny.

Harry shrugged. 'I suppose.'

'You're going to rot in Azkaban.'

'Am I? I killed the Dark Lord. Do you really think the Ministry is going to send me to prison? The magical community would go mad over that! I can just see the _Daily Prophet_ headlines...'

'The Minister for Magic hates you,' said Ginny fiercely. 'I'm sure he'd like nothing better than to send you away for a hundred years.'

Harry reached for his water bottle, which was sitting on his bedside table. He took a drink from it and smiled. 'I need more coffee,' he said, 'so if you'll excuse me.' He tried to walk past Ginny, but she blocked him.

'No,' said Ginny, standing up straighter. 'You killed someone very important to me. You can't just walk away from me.'

'Watch me.'

Harry brushed past Ginny, but she pushed him back. She grabbed his water bottle and hurled it against the wall in a fit of anger and outrage. It broke on impact, spilling its contents all over the floor. Ginny stared at the broken pieces as her heart nearly stopped.

'Ohh my God,' she whispered. She felt time slow. From behind her, she heard the small rush of air as Mandy whipped out her wand and waved it in the air, yelling '_Stupefy_.' A beam of red light glittered momentarily in the air as it soared past Ginny's head and hit Harry in the middle of the chest.

Ginny whirled around and looked at Mandy. The girl looked positively stricken.

'Go to McGonagall,' said Mandy. 'I'll stay here.'

Ginny hesitated for a moment and Mandy yelled at her to go, so Ginny took off at a sprint out of the Defence classroom. She ran down the corridors, weaving through a group of fourth-year Slytherins who had remained behind for the holiday. She stopped in front of Dumbledore's old office. _FUCK_! She needed a password and she had no idea what sort of password McGonagall might use. Dumbledore liked sweets... what did McGonagall like? Rules? Gryffindor? Teaching? Quidditch? Ohh, of course, the Headmistress had a soft spot for Quidditch.

'Um, Quidditch,' said Ginny. When the staircase didn't appear, she continued quickly on. 'Chaser. Beater. Quaffle. Er, Bludger. Seeker. Snitch. Golden Snitch. Er, crap! Quidditch Cup—'

The phoenix moved upwards and the staircase appeared. Ginny climbed it as quickly as she could, bursting through the doors to McGonagall's office without knocking. She was sitting behind her desk, reading over a long piece of parchment. Snape was sitting across from her, dressed in all black and looking particularly greasy. He turned around when Ginny bustled through the doorway.

'What is the meaning of this!' snapped Snape, rising.

'Professor,' Ginny panted, 'Mandy... in the Defence room... with Harry...'

'Slow down,' said McGonagall, also rising. 'Take a deep breath. What in the name of Merlin is going on, Miss Weasley?'

Ginny took several deep breaths and willed her nerves to stop shaking. 'In the Defence room I got a bit upset with Harry and I threw his water bottle against the wall.'

Snape snorted. 'Typical Weasley temper.'

Ginny ignored him. 'When it broke... it wasn't coffee.'

'What wasn't coffee?' said McGonagall, clearly confused.

'Inside his water bottle. Harry's been drinking coffee all hours of the day to stay awake, only it wasn't coffee, Professor! It looked like...' Ginny glanced at Snape and then back to McGonagall.

'It looked like what, Miss Weasley?' asked McGonagall.

'It looked like Polyjuice Potion. I don't think Harry is really Harry.'

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX


	19. Magic Gone and Magic Needed

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Nineteen: Magic Gone and Magic Needed**

XXXXXXX

Hermione sealed her letter to Ginny and sent it off with Pig. She was seated at the dining room table feeling numb. Ron was next to her, fresh from a shower, his hair still damp, leafing through a stack of parchment with Quidditch plays drawn on them. He didn't have to know many plays as a Keeper, but it was useful to know what his team mates were doing.

'What's wrong?' asked Ron.

'Feeling sorry for Ginny,' answered Hermione. 'She wasn't allowed to go to Stebbins' memorial. Plus, she's had to stay at Hogwarts for the rest of Christmas holiday without any of her family to comfort her. And I daresay the shock of finding out that Harry was really Gregory's father would have been enough to send me "round the bend."'

'Well, the Goyle family really is dim.'

'Yes, Mandy said that he wasn't acting like the real Harry at all. Even called Voldemort the Dark Lord.' Hermione sighed. 'He hasn't given up where Harry is... or if Harry is still alive.'

'I'm sure he is. We haven't gone through this much shite for Harry to have died. He beat Voldemort. He can beat McDougal. I'd bet my life on it.'

'Well, don't. Just in case. By tonight, Snape will have been able to finish the truth potion,' said Hermione. 'Hopefully they can give him a big dose of that and he'll tell us where Harry is. Then we can go get him.'

'You mean Veritaserum?'

'No. This is something Snape invented. It has essence of belladonna, spleen of rat, and Jobberknoll feathers from a newly-hatched female.'

'Isn't belladonna poisonous?'

'Yes, but from the tests Snape has run thus far... it's worked rather well. It takes about three weeks to brew. Well, twenty-three days to be exact.'

'How do you know this?' asked Ron.

'I went to an Order meeting while you were at Quidditch practise.'

'Oh. When was this?'

'Earlier today. It was a small meeting. Remus... Tonks... Snape... McGonagall... Michael Brocklehurst... Tonks can't go out and do field work since she's pregnant so she's been working with Remus and Michael on getting the cells opened up.'

'Do they know which cell my dad is in, yet?' asked Ron hopefully.

Hermione shook her head. 'No. Not yet. Everyone in the cells is under some sort of spell. No one has been able to talk to them to see what happened or how they were taken.'

'Why not?' Ron looked alarmed. 'If they're under a spell... They're still alive, aren't they? I mean, how are they eating and stuff?'

'I don't know,' said Hermione. 'They're all sort of... asleep. I don't know.'

'And no one can wake them up? Why not?'

'Well, they're probably under a Binding Spell.'

'What the fuck is a Binding Spell?'

'The spell that the captives and the doors are under cannot be undone until whoever cast it is dead.'

'Oh, shite.'

'Yes, oh, shite.' Hermione looked at Ron, her eyes dancing over his face. 'I'm sorry. I know you're worried about your dad.' She swallowed. 'But if something was to happen... you still have me.'

'Don't say something like that,' whispered Ron.

An owl banged its beak against the kitchen window. Hermione jumped up to let the little bird in. It flew around the kitchen and throughout the lounge. It finally landed on the table in front of Ron. He and Hermione both looked at it, not sure they wanted to know what was written on the letter.

Hermione took the letter and slowly opened it. She let out a breath of relief.

'Snape finished the potion. He and McGonagall are taking Goyle to Grimmauld Place in an hour. We're welcome to go and listen to Lupin interrogate him if we want to.'

Ron nodded. 'Let's go.'

XXXXXXX

'What is your name?'

Snape and McGonagall were standing against the far wall of the kitchen in Grimmauld Place. In the centre of the room was Goyle, sitting in one of the wooden chairs, hands folded in his lap, eyes glazed over. Lupin had walked in a circle around the chair ever since Snape had given him his special truth potion twenty minutes before. Ron and Hermione stood on the wall opposite Snape and McGonagall.

'Why is he asking him that?' Ron whispered to Hermione. 'We already know who he is.'

'You're supposed to start with small questions that we know the answers to, otherwise we wouldn't know if he's actually telling the truth.'

'Matthew Armand Goyle.'

'How old are you?'

'Forty-seven.'

'When did you first become a Death Eater.'

'August 1980.'

Lupin stopped in front of Goyle. 'Why?'

'Mr Malfoy told me to.'

Ron snorted. Of course. Like father like son. Always expecting people to do their bidding.

'How many people have you killed?'

'Fourteen.'

'How many Ministry personnel have you helped kidnap?'

'None.'

Ron stifled a groan. If Goyle didn't know about the missing...

'Do you know where they are?'

Goyle nodded. 'Yes.'

'Do you know what spell they are under?'

'Yes. The Half-Death Draught.'

'Where's Harry Potter?'

'In the vaults with the others.'

'Why were you given Polyjuice to look like Harry?'

'To see what was going on inside Hogwarts.'

'How can we get the missing out of the vaults they are kept in?'

'Kill Alex.'

Lupin paused; he glanced at the wall where McGonagall and Snape stood. 'Where is Alex?'

'At his house. You're asking the wrong question.'

Ron felt Hermione stand up straighter next to him.

'What's the right question?' asked Lupin.

'You're supposed to ask _how_ to kill Alex.'

'All right. How do we kill Alex?'

'Alex is powerful. He's doing the Dark Lord's work. Building an army of dispensable witches and wizards. When he has enough... he'll start another war on the magical world. You cannot kill him unless you first kill the members of his army he bound to him.'

Hermione gasped. Ron was confused. What was Goyle talking about? Wasn't he supposed to be dim-witted? How come he knew so much?

'Who has he bound to him?' asked Lupin, his voice rising just a bit.

'Whimple, Munch, and Weasley.'

Ron's ears perked up. Weasley? That meant his dad!

'We can't open up the vaults unless Alex is dead,' said Lupin slowly, 'but we can't kill Alex unless three of his... "army" are dead. Is that correct?'

'Yes.'

'How do we get to this army if we cannot open the vaults?'

'_Kill Alex_,' coughed Goyle. He began shaking as a glob of saliva fell out of the side of his mouth.

'What's happening?' asked Ron, alarmed.

'Reaction to the belladonna,' said Snape. He took a small bottle out of his robes and put it to Goyle's lips. As Goyle drank, his shaking ceased and his head fell forward; he was asleep.

'Oh, shite,' said Lupin. 'I daresay we're in a bit of a... conundrum.'

'I don't understand,' said Ron.

'What don't you understand?' asked Hermione.

'Um, mostly everything. It went straight over my head. I mean, I thought Goyle was supposed to be an idiot, but he sounded perfectly normal to me.'

Lupin turned and looked at Ron. 'The answers he gave were lodged in his brain. It was information he had been exposed to. Just because _he_ doesn't understand it, doesn't mean it isn't there. Do you take Arithmancy?'

'No.'

'Well, try to understand anyway. You have a bunch of numbers and a difficult problem. You know the formulas in which to use to solve the problem, but you don't understand how to use them.'

'Yeah, I still don't get it, but all right. What is this army?'

'I'm assuming the army is all of the missing personnel. Goyle said it was "disposable" witches and wizards. McDougal hates Muggles and Muggle-borns. It makes sense that he would band together an army where he doesn't care whether they live or die. I'm also going to assume that he bound those three wizards to him to ensure that none of his "army" escape.'

'So how do we rescue them?' asked Ron. 'I really want my dad back.'

'I don't know...' said Lupin. He looked at Hermione.

'Well, we need to think of something,' snapped Snape. 'We cannot let our world go into another war. I'm tired of fighting. I'd like to go back to making potions for Poppy. I was perfectly happy doing that.'

'I don't see how there is a way,' said McGonagall.

'There is,' whispered Hermione.

'We can't,' said Lupin. 'That isn't an answer.'

'Yes, it is. It has to be.' Ron felt her grip his hand tightly in hers.

'What are you two on about?' said McGonagall, sounding very tired.

'_Amontio magus_,' whispered Hermione.

Ron heard McGonagall gasp. She exchanged a glance with Snape, who also looked suddenly very distressed. Ron felt himself tense up. He wasn't sure what _Amontio magus_ was, but it apparently wasn't very good.

'No,' said Lupin. 'Absolutely not. Anyone powerful enough to cast it...'

'I'm powerful enough,' said Hermione.

'No,' said McGonagall. 'Miss Granger, you might fancy yourself a full adult, especially now that you're married, but I don't think you fully realise the repercussions of the _Amontio magus_ spell.'

'I do understand.'

'Wait!' interrupted Ron. 'I'm lost again.'

'The only way to get your father out of those vaults is to take away all of McDougal's magical powers. If he no longer has any magic in him then the spells he cast on the vaults and your father will instantly lift.'

'Okay, so why don't we do that? That sounds like a brilliant idea,' said Ron.

'Whoever casts it pays a price,' said Lupin. 'They'll lose all of their magical powers as well.'

'As will anyone they are related to,' added Snape.

'So if Hermione casts the spell, she'll no longer be a witch?' Ron's heart began to race. What would he do if Hermione couldn't do magic? What would_ Hermione_ do if she couldn't do magic?

'Yes, but I'm not blood-related to anyone magical,' said Hermione. 'If _I _cast the spell, no one else would be affected!'

'No,' said Ron. 'You can't.'

'It's my fault he's in power! I should have done more research! I should have realised that the essence of Voldemort would transfer to someone else—'

'Stop blaming yourself—'

'If I do this then we can be done with the whole mess! All of the spells will be lifted and then we can go find McDougal and give him the potion I made to destroy the essence and we can sentence him to Azkaban.'

'No,' said Ron. 'Absolutely not.'

'Ron, it's not your decision!'

'Miss Granger,' said McGonagall lightly, 'I do not believe you're a wise choice to do the spell. You have at least another hundred years to live. You'll need magic. _I'll_ do the spell. I'm old. My sisters are both gone—'

'But you're a teacher! You'll need magic to keep your students in line. And in Muggle years you're old, but you're not in danger of dying for a few more decades at least. Dumbledore lived to be over a hundred-fifty!'

'Yes, I suppose I'm still only in my seventies, then, but—'

'_I'll _do it,' said Lupin. 'It's not as though I can get a job doing anything magical since I'm a werewolf.'

'What about your baby?' asked Hermione.

'Not born yet... He doesn't have any magical powers sitting in Tonks' womb.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes.'

'I'd offer,' said Ron, 'but I have eight relatives who all use magic...'

Everyone turned and looked at Snape, who was next in line to offer himself up for the _Amontio magus_ spell.

'No,' he said.

'But you're a Potions Master. You can still brew potions without magic powers, can't you?' said Ron.

'I said _no_.'

'I'll do it,' said Lupin. 'I daresay there aren't many wizards powerful to do this spell anyway. I'm not sure _I'm_ powerful enough... I suppose I could get a Muggle job.'

'Mr Filch is retiring at the end of the term, you could be the new caretaker,' said Snape, smiling widely, almost evilly, his teeth looking awfully yellow in the candlelight of the kitchen.

'Don't tempt me,' said Lupin dryly. 'I'll do it. No, I'm going to do it. Let me explain everything to Tonks, then we'll do the spell tomorrow.'

'Will Tonks agree to it?' asked Ron.

'Tonks is surprisingly cooperative,' replied Lupin. 'Unless you call her Nymphadora.'

Snape let out a large, aggravated-sounding sigh. 'I better head back to Hogwarts, then. There's going to be about fifty people who'll need the antidote to the Half-Death Draught.' He scratched his greasy nose. 'Coming, Minerva?'

'Yes. We'll discuss this further tomorrow, Remus,' she said. 'I hope you realise the price in which you'll pay for no longer having any magical powers.'

Lupin nodded. 'Yes.' He watched McGonagall and Snape go up the stairs and out of sight. He turned to Ron and Hermione. 'You two better head on back to your flat. And, Hermione, don't think any more about giving up your magic, all right?'

Hermione nodded. 'All right.'

Lupin Disapparated, leaving Ron and Hermione alone in the kitchen.

'Why didn't anyone use this spell with Voldemort?'

'I didn't know it existed until a few months ago,' said Hermione. 'I told Professor Lupin about it... he didn't know about it either.'

'What about Dumbledore or McGonagall?'

'They're very powerful... it is a _terrible_ price to pay... especially since the magic is taken out of their blood – and the blood of all their relatives. Let's not talk about this, all right?'

'Hermione, don't think about giving up your magic, please?'

'Okay.'

'I _mean_ it.'

'I should write a letter to Mandy,' said Hermione, obviously avoiding the topic, 'and let her know what's going on. I'm sure she'll want to be there when we get Harry.' Looking up at Ron, she added, 'I'll see you at home.' With that, she Disapparated.

XXXXXXX

Mandy Flooed to Grimmauld Place the next night at midnight. Hermione waved her over and smiled.

'I'm glad you came. After Lupin does the spell we're going to go to the Ministry. Tonks is waiting for us there.'

'I thought she'd be here.'

Hermione shook her head. 'She and Lupin went through the list of Order members last night and came to the conclusion that he has the least to lose by losing his magic. He can get a job at Hogwarts without the use of magic, or he can stay home with the baby. He's been wanting to start an organisation for werewolves – magical and Muggle werewolves. He could do that.' Hermione shrugged. 'Anyway, she knows that this is what needs to be done, but she doesn't want to watch it happen.'

'Oh.'

'At the Ministry we're going to administer the antidote that Snape made up. Ron's anxious to find his father first. I imagine you want to find Harry.'

Mandy gave a little shrug. 'I'm sure you want to find him as well.'

'Of course, he's my best friend, but I don't fancy him.'

Mandy's face reddened. 'He had seemed a bit more eager to, y'know, start... to go out... Anyway, I do want to find him.'

Hermione smiled. 'Ah, young love,' she said jokingly.

'Ha ha. When will you give McDougal the potion?'

'Whenever we find him. He won't be as much of a threat without any magic, but he still can order the former Death Eaters around. As soon as we find him, I'll give him the potion. Some of the Order members want to kill him, get rid of the whole problem, but I'd rather send him to Azkaban.'

'When is Lupin going to do the spell?'

Hermione looked at her watch. 'He's doing it right now.'

XXXXXXX

Lupin sat in the middle of the floor of his old bedroom at Grimmauld Place. His legs were crossed and his eyes closed. He had his wand clutched in one hand, extended above his head.

He whispered the words to the _Amontio magus_ spell, a swirl of blue light pooling over his head. As he said the words, the air around him began to blow. His body shook and vibrated against the hardwood floor.

The air kept blowing as the blue swirl shot out from his wand went through the window. It was replaced by a white light that flew back into the tip of Lupin's wand. He dropped it, the wand having become fire-hot.

The room had quieted down, but he felt weak and strange. Picking up his wand, he pointed it at the door.

'_Alohomora_,' he said, but the door to his bedroom remained locked.

He dropped the wand again and it hit the floor with a light tapping sound. He had done it. He had done the spell correctly. The white light must have been McDougal's powers flying into his wand. There would be no way, now, to get the magic back out; it was permanently stuck.

Magicless.

Lupin hadn't realised quite how strange it would feel. But he was doing this for the greater good. There were nearly fifty people in the Ministry, many having been missing for months and months. He was helping reunite families and friends and lovers. He was setting people _free_. Still, he felt oddly vacant inside his skin.

And then, he tried once more to unlock the door with a spell. When he couldn't, he closed his eyes and cried.

XXXXXXX

The vault doors were opened. On the other side of each of them was a square room with a cold, stone floor. The missing were lying in there, in the state of Half-Death. A team of medi-wizards and Healers were on standby, looking after each of the missing. They all had muscle soreness and confusion. Ron was reunited with Arthur and both of them almost cried. Hermione watched, truly touched, as the older, balding redhead threw his arms around his son, tears spilling over and rolling down his cheeks.

'I feel like I need a big drink,' said Ron, standing in the middle of the circular room, looking around at each of the opened vault doors and the now-empty cells. 'It's so cold in here...' He shivered. 'It's over, isn't it?'

Hermione shook her head. 'Almost... but not quite... Once McDougal drinks the potion... then it'll be over.' Hermione took Ron's hand. 'Then we can focus on us for a while.'

'Sounds brilliant.'

'Have they got Harry out yet?'

Ron shook his head. 'No.' He pointed to the doorway of a nearby cell. 'Mandy's there now.'

They watched as Harry walked out of the cell, his eyes blinking rapidly against the light. He wasn't limping like the other victims; he hadn't been put into death-like sleep for as long as the others had, although he did seem a bit confused.

'You weren't gone for too long,' said Mandy, her voice low. 'But I was really worried.'

'Yeah?'

She nodded. 'Yeah.'

'Is it over? Is McDougal..?'

Mandy shook her head. 'No, but you don't need to worry about it. For you, it's over. We'll go back to Hogwarts and everything will go back to normal. C'mon, there're some Healers upstairs who are going to want to look you over.'

'But I feel fine.'

'Oh, just let them look, all right?' Mandy tugged on Harry's hand and began to walk away, but Harry didn't move and he pulled Mandy back to him.

'Hey, I'll let them check me over, but... not yet, okay?'

Mandy barely nodded before Harry kissed her.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX

A/N: Thanks to my lovely beta, doraemon, who helped inspire me to write the bit about Lupin. That was not originally planned, but then I thought of it, and I liked it, so I went with it.

School and the baby are keeping me very busy, but I plan to have this story finished before HBP comes out... although that's only 37 days away!


	20. New Relationships and Illusions

XXXXXXX

**Chapter Twenty: New Relationships and Illusions**

XXXXXXX

They insisted on taking everyone to St Mungo's. Harry was not a fan of hospitals, and he especially didn't want to be a patient in one. Hermione visited for a little bit; Ron showed for five minutes or so before going to look for his father. He said he'd come back, but he never did. Once Hermione left for her flat, Harry let out a large sigh of relief. He wanted Mandy all to himself. She had been sitting in a large leather chair by his bed, legs tucked underneath her.

Once Hermione was out of the door, she uncurled herself and sat on the edge of Harry's bed. His arms went around her waist and pulled her to him. They both laid down on the bed, facing one another.

'I'm glad you're all right. And I'm glad you weren't the one who killed Stebbins. What happened after you left the Leaky Cauldron?'

'Well, I had my wand. Those Death Eaters, if that's still what they're called, took me back to the Ministry. I kept my wand and they didn't touch me and I didn't touch them. And we went into the Minister's office.'

'McDougal's office,' said Mandy.

Harry nodded. 'He was there and he spoke to me in that rough Irish brogue he has. He and Voldemort, they both liked to talk. Instead of just kill me, they'd stand there and chat, as if they wanted me to think about my death for a while before they just did it. Anyway, McDougal said that he wanted something worse for me than death.' Harry tucked a piece of Mandy's blonde hair behind her ear.

'What's worse than death?'

'Being alone, everyone hating me, or something to that effect. That's why he got one of his men to Polyjuice into me. Then, he'd do mad stuff to everyone I knew and my legacy of killing the Dark Lord would be nothing compared to the new one I'd leave behind – a legacy of death, destruction, chaos, filth, and greed – or that's what McDougal said.'

'He should've got someone brighter to do the job, then. Half-witted, Goyle is.'

Harry nodded in agreement. 'Then, he tried to force me to drink some potion by using the Imperius on me, but it didn't work so he Stunned me instead. I'm going to assume that once I was Stunned, he gave me the potion.'

Mandy nodded. 'You were under the same potion as everyone else.'

'What was it?'

'Half-Death.'

'What's that?'

'It puts you in a state of unconsciousness. You don't know whether you're alive or dead. The longer you're under it, the harder it is to wake you up. It was the idea behind the potion from _Romeo and Juliet_. That's what my mum told me.'

'_Romeo and Juliet_?'

'Yes. You're Muggle, you've heard of Shakespeare.'

'Of course,' said Harry. 'How did he know of a magical potion, though?'

Mandy shrugged. 'Who knows. Perhaps he was a wizard. Well, I heard you can leave in the morning,' she said, changing the subject.

'That's what the Healer said.'

'I overheard one of them say that Mr Weasley is going to have to be here a couple of days to make sure he's all right. He was gone for a long time.'

'Are all the Weasleys here?'

Mandy nodded. 'Most of them. Ginny is still at school. McGonagall thought it best to keep her there where she was safest. I think Ron said Bill was in France and was going to Portkey in sometime in the morning.'

'That sounds good. One thing I'm confused about,' said Harry. 'You and Hermione said that you went to the Ministry using her location spell, but why didn't you open up the cells we were kept in then?'

'There was a binding spell on them. The only way to remove the spell was if McDougal was killed or if his magic was taken away.'

'His magic?'

Mandy sat up. 'It's a very old, powerful spell. If you do it, then you take away all the magic in a person, but you and your entire blood-kin also lose their magic.'

'Who did the spell?'

'Professor Lupin.'

Harry shot up. 'What! What about Tonks?'

'They're not related by blood. The magic is taken out of their blood.'

'But they're going to have a baby.'

'It won't affect him,' said Mandy. 'But Lupin is now useless as a wizard.'

'Is he still a werewolf?'

Mandy nodded. 'Why would that change? Muggles can be werewolves.'

'I suppose you're right.' Harry sighed. 'What a terrible price to pay, though.'

'He helped rescue so many people and now McDougal can't hurt anyone with magic anymore. I think the price is relative. Besides, Lupin couldn't get a job in the Ministry anyway. He didn't lose much there. Tonks is still with him. He's still the same person. It's not as though he lost his mind or anything. Just his magic.'

'Don't you think he'll be lost without it?'

'Would you be lost without it?'

Harry furrowed his brow. 'I don't know,' he said. 'I don't think I'd mind a break, though.'

'Really?'

'Yeah, just for a while. Separate myself from the Muggle and the magical world alike. Be on my own. Instead of trying to find another job when I was rejected from the Auror program, I think I used Hogwarts as a crutch. I should've found someplace else to go, but Hogwarts was the easiest and I knew it so well.'

'Are you going to come back this term?'

Harry nodded. 'I'll finish out the term, but then...'

'Well, it fits. Hogwarts can't have a Defence teacher longer than a year. You can't break that chain.'

Harry shook his head. 'No, I can't break that chain,' he repeated.

'I should be getting back to Hogwarts,' said Mandy, standing up from the bed.

'Wait, really? Why?'

'I can't stay here. You should rest. I don't really fancy anyone finding us sleeping in your bed. I'd be embarrassed.' She blushed ever so slightly and Harry smiled. 'I'll spend the night in your quarters once we know each other better in, y'know, that way.'

'You've already spent the night in my quarters.'

'I slept on your sofa because you were pissed out of your mind.'

Harry grinned. 'I was, wasn't I?'

'Yes. Now, I'll see you tomorrow when you get back to Hogwarts. I'll be in the library.'

Harry nodded. 'All right.'

'G'night.' Mandy kissed Harry softly on his lips, pulling away after a moment. She smiled, ruffled his hair, and left the room.

XXXXXXX

Hermione was asleep when Ron Apparated into the bedroom. He heard her breathing deeply and he quietly shed his clothing and pulled on his old blue pyjamas with the holes in the elbows. Tiptoeing to the bed, Ron pulled back the covers and slipped underneath them. His eyes lingered on Hermione's face, barely visible in the dark. He scooted down so that he could lay his head on Hermione's chest, just above her left breast. Her heart beat filled his ear and he closed his eyes, falling asleep to the rhythm.

The next morning, Ron woke up in an empty bed. He wasn't sure how Hermione managed to move him off of her without waking him. The room was freezing, so Ron pulled one of the blankets off the bed, wrapped it around his shoulders, and went into the hall. He smelled coffee and found Hermione sitting on the floor in front of her fireplace, reading a book.

'Good morning,' she said, looking up. She was still in her pyjamas, soft, periwinkle blue ones that dipped low in the front and stopped mid-calf at the bottom. They were very cute on her, especially with her hair wild from sleep.

'Hi,' said Ron, sitting down next to her, the fire immediately warming his face. 'What're you doing up so early? It's only half six.'

'I don't have to be at work until nine,' she said, 'so I thought I'd read for a bit while you slept. You must've got in late last night.'

Ron nodded. 'Around one, I think. Dad was looking good, although he looked very tired. The Healers had to practically force-feed him because he didn't want to eat any food.'

'Well, I'm glad he's all right. I'm sure he appreciated you staying with him when everyone else went home.'

'Mum cried.'

'I'm sure she did.'

'She went home to get a good night's sleep. Charlie almost had to carry her out she was so exhausted. I don't think she's really slept in weeks.'

'Months, more likely,' said Hermione. 'When do you have practise today?'

'At four.'

'So you won't be home for dinner?'

Ron shook his head. 'Not likely.'

'Mulciber thinks he knows where McDougal is.'

'What? Really? How?'

'His brother is a Death Eater,' said Hermione. 'They haven't spoken in _years_, mostly because he was in Azkaban until the break-out in fifth year, but Mulciber said that his brother owls him sometimes to brag about what they've been doing.'

'Does your boss keep the letters? He could turn them over and his brother could be arrested.'

Hermione shook her head. 'No, they're charmed to self-destruct after they've been read.'

'Oh.' Ron was disappointed.

'But his brother mentions one place more frequently than any other place, so Mulciber thinks that's probably where McDougal is.'

'Wow, those Death Eaters are all pretty daft. What place is that?'

'Hogsmeade.'

XXXXXXX

Michael Brocklehurst sat in the Three Broomsticks with a bottle of Butterbeer and his wand clutched safely in his hand. He watched as people entered and left the bar. It was a Wednesday, the new term had begun at Hogwarts already, and he was waiting for classes to finish up so his sister and Harry could meet him. Finally, after almost an hour of waiting, they walked through the door, shaking snow off their shoulders and pulling off their thick winter cloaks.

'Hello,' said Mandy, kissing her brother on the cheek. 'Sorry it took us so long.' She sat down at the table next to Harry.

'That's all right.'

'Who else is coming?'

'Hermione is supposed to meet us here at six.'

'Is Ron coming?' asked Harry.

'No, he has Quidditch practise. This is supposed to be very routine. Tonks has been staking out his flat above Schrivenshaft's with some foreign bloke who's new to the Order. They're supposed to send us a message when McDougal's alone in the flat.'

'Who's the foreign bloke?'

'Probably Viktor Krum,' said Harry. 'Hermione mentioned he was going to join the Order.'

'Oh. He was dreamy during the Tournament. Then again, famous Quidditch players always have a certain... charm.'

Harry frowned. 'What about me? I'm famous. I'm a Quidditch player.'

'But you're not famous _for_ Quidditch,' said Mandy with a smile.

Michael rolled his eyes. His sister trying to be a flirt. That was something new. He watched her and Harry interact. There was definitely something going on between them. Slowly, his eyes narrowed. Harry better watch his back. No one messes with _his_ sister and gets away with it unscathed.

'I'm going to use the loo; I'll be back,' said Mandy, pushing back her chair and walking off towards the back of the pub.

_Good timing_. 'Now, Harry,' said Michael.

'Yes?'

'Have you touched my sister?'

'Excuse me?'

'You heard me.'

'Er, no?'

Michael nodded. 'Good. Do you plan on it?'

'No.'

'Good. Keep it that way. Or I'll have to kill you.'

Harry let out a short, uncomfortable laugh. 'Right. Of course. I understand.'

'Don't break her heart.'

Harry's uncomfortable smile faded. 'No... I'm more worried that she'll break mine.'

Michael blinked a few times, studying Harry. He'd always thought of Harry as a boy, but somewhere he'd clearly turned into a man. Solid. Smart. Michael knew Harry was lying, of course. There was no denying that his sister was attractive and that she was old enough to make adult decisions. Michael shuddered at the thought. Still, Harry _would_ touch his sister, and for that, Michael had to be wary of him. But Harry seemed like a good enough bloke.

'Ouch!' Michael cried. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a red-hot coin. 'Hermione didn't tell me she charmed this to _burn_ me!' He threw the coin down on the table. 'Well, flat's empty. Let's go.'

XXXXXXX

There was a set of stairs behind Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop that led up to a door with no knob. Hermione laughed to herself, thinking of how McDougal must be stuck up there, unable to Disapparate or open the door with his wand. Viktor and Tonks sat on a bench, looking over hastily-scribbled notes they had written. They watched the flat for several hours, Disillusioned so no one would see them.

'Ready?' asked Tonks.

'Oh, no you don't!' cried Lupin, who had used the Knight Bus with Hermione to get to Hogsmeade. He pulled on her robes to keep her seated on the bench she had conjured up. 'You're _not_ fighting while pregnant.'

'But he can't hurt me!'

'He has fists,' said Lupin. 'Absolutely not.'

'How are you going to keep me here?' challenged Tonks. 'Tie me up?'

'This isn't time for anything kinky,' said Lupin. 'Now, be serious. What are you going to do? Waddle in there with wands blazing?'

'I do _not_ waddle! I'm not even that big yet!'

'Okay,' said Lupin, 'keep telling yourself that. You look like you have one of Hagrid's pumpkins under your robes.'

'Yeah? Well, you – you – you look like a dirty old man!'

'I _am_ a dirty old man. Now, _sit down_ and let the people who aren't pregnant go up there!' Lupin stopped, looked at Hermione. 'You're not pregnant, are you?'

'No!' cried Hermione. 'Why do I keep getting that question lately?'

'I've heard the rumours about you and Ron. I just had to make sure I wasn't sticking my foot in my mouth by saying no one pregnant was going upstairs.'

Hermione shook her head. 'No. No babies for me.'

'That's good. Pregnant women get irritable, I daresay – oof!'

Hermione had to laugh. Tonks waved her wand and Lupin's foot went straight into his mouth. He made a face and took it out.

'Mmm, my favourite flavour. Food odour and leather. I daresay that is the most foul thing I've ever had in my mouth. Viktor, you best stay down here and help me keep Tonks safe.'

Hermione smiled. Tonks and Lupin might put on a good show, but it was all in jest. She'd never seen them actually _fight_, not like she and Ron could fight, anyway. Turning towards the stairs, Hermione nodded at Michael, Harry, and Mandy, and they made their way quietly.

Once at the top, Michael waved his wand and opened the door. The four of them burst inside, wands out. Sitting on a settee was McDougal eating what looked like a liverwurst sandwich. He jumped up and grabbed his wand.

'What are you doing here?' he cried.

'Put the wand down,' said Michael. 'We know you can't use it.'

'I most certainly can use it!'

'Not without magic,' said Hermione, 'and we know yours has disappeared.'

McDougal faltered. 'What? I don't – I don't know what you're referring to.'

'Give it up,' snapped Harry. 'I know you kidnapped all those people – I know you kidnapped _me_ and it didn't work. Everyone's been freed.'

McDougal lowered his wand and let it drop to the ground. 'Fine. Go ahead. Kill me. Be kind and do it quick. Don't let me rot in Azkaban.'

'Why?' said Harry. 'Why did you take all those people?'

'To build an army,' said McDougal. 'An army that would help me finish the Dark Lord's work, that would wipe our world of Mudbloods and Muggles so we could remain pure.'

'Don't you think purity is an illusion? Our caretaker at Hogwarts is pureblood, but he's a Squib. He can't even do magic.'

'What do you know? You're as filthy as the rest of them.' He looked back and forth between Mandy and Michael. 'I know the two of you,' he said. 'Your father – I remember your father. Cried like a little wanker, begged for his life—'

'Shut him up,' said Harry.

'Gladly,' said Michael. '_Stupefy_.'

McDougal's body stiffened and he fell over onto the floor with a loud thud. Hermione took out her bottle of potion and enlarged it. She went over to McDougal's body, opened his mouth and poured the potion into it. A sizzling sound filled the room as McDougal's body shook. The sound got louder and louder, like oil popping on a hot cooker. Then, with one final _pop_, the room fell silent.

'I think it's over,' whispered Hermione.

'I'll take him,' said Michael. 'I have a Portkey straight to the Ministry courtroom. The Wizengamot should be there, having their monthly meeting. Perfect timing.' He smiled. 'See you later, little sis.' Michael picked up McDougal's body and took a large pen out of his pocket. He tapped it. '_Portus_,' he said, touched it, and disappeared.

'Is it over?' said Harry. 'I mean, really, actually over?'

Hermione nodded. 'Yes. It is.'

'This seemed very subdued compared to the last time we fought.'

'With Voldemort in the final battle?' said Hermione. 'Yes, it was. I'm glad there weren't any stray Death Eaters hiding out in here. Just think Harry, it's _done_. The potion burned the essence of Voldemort out of McDougal's body; everyone has been freed from the vaults; and now the magical world is at peace again, or as much peace as it probably can ever get. You don't have to worry about anything anymore. Ohh! And I bet if you submit your Auror application again you'll be accepted! McDougal's no longer going to have any influence over who's accepted!'

Harry shrugged. 'I don't know. I think I need to take a break from magic.'

Hermione frowned. 'Isn't that what you did last summer?'

'No, I mean, of course I'll keep in touch with everyone. I just – well, never mind. There's still the rest of the term that I have to teach. Perhaps I'll feel differently once summer's here, yeah?'

Hermione nodded. 'Yeah.' She didn't feel convinced, though. What was Harry talking about? Leaving the magical world? Was he serious?

'We need to get back to Hogwarts,' said Harry, 'since this is all... over.'

Hermione smiled and nodded. She watched as Harry took Mandy's hand and they left through the open door of the flat. When they were out of sight, she looked around the small flat and sighed. There were no more Dark wizards to worry about. Everything was finished. Done. Completed. It felt odd, knowing that their lives were going to be suddenly filled with less drama. Would they suddenly have normal lives to lead? With no one trying to kill any of them? Was the wizarding world now safe to raise a family? Or was this just a pause? Would history repeat itself and another Dark wizard try to rise in power in a few years? Where would the end be?

_Oh, stop worrying!_ Hermione scolded herself. Things would be all right. Things would be perfect. If another Dark wizard tried to rise, that would be a different life for all of them. They would all be different people by the time that would happen.

Suddenly, Hermione had an overwhelming need to see Ron. His wedding band would be glowing blue and orange now. Hermione looked down at hers; it was glowing blue and white and she knew Ron was thinking about her and missing her as well. Hoping that he was home, Hermione Disapparated.

Ron was in the kitchen, trying to boil potatoes. He turned and smiled. 'I just got home myself,' he said. He had obviously changed out of his Quidditch clothes because his shirt was clean and he had on baggy jeans that were only held up by an old dragonhide belt of Bill's.

'I saw that my ring was glowing,' said Hermione quietly, 'and I wanted to come home and see you. Everything's good with McDougal. Michael took him to the Ministry. He'll be in Azkaban by morning.'

'Good,' said Ron.

'How was practise?'

'Brilliant.'

'Good.' Hermione swallowed. 'Ron? I need to ask you something.' She motioned for Ron to come to her. He set down his potatoes, wiped his hands on a dishcloth, and walked over to Hermione. She put her hands on either side of his face and brought him towards her. She kissed him lightly and whispered in his ear.

When she pulled back to see what Ron had to say, his entire face was bright red, but there was a smile plastered across his face. He nodded.

'Yeah,' he said, 'let's do it.' He winked, picked Hermione up, and walked down the hall towards the bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot.

Yes, all would be right in the world.

XXXXXXX

To Be Continued...

XXXXXXX

A/N: Ah, yes, there's still the epilogue to look forward to. What do you think's going to happen?

A cookie to anyone who knows which movie one of the lines comes from. Ah, and what a good movie that is, too.

And don't forget to read the Draco/Rebecca outtake. It's full of smutty goodness. To anyone who reads this story on fanfiction dot net you can find the outtake at www dot checkmated dot com and the story is called 'Hurt'.


	21. Ep: More Weddings and Rekindled Flames

XXXXXXX

**Epilogue: More Weddings and Rekindled Flames**

XXXXXXX

July 2001

'_Who_ is your new partner?' cried Ron.

Hermione laughed. 'I _told_ you, Draco!'

'You're calling him _Draco_ now?'

'That's his name, silly.'

Ron frowned. 'I don't like this. I don't like this _at all_. He better keep his bloody hands off of you.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'He will. Come here, your tie is crooked.'

'Why do I have to wear a tie? They make my neck itch.'

'Because,' said Hermione, redoing Ron's red tie, 'it's a wedding and you're suppose to look nice at weddings.'

'Aren't ties a _Muggle_ thing?'

'The invitations said to wear "you're best Muggle-dress." Of course, saying that to a group of wizards could have ghastly results, which is why Lavender sent out detailed instructions on what to wear. Lavender is very big on fashion. It's why I went shopping for you. Don't you like it? You look brilliant.'

Hermione stepped back from Ron and ran her eyes up and down him. He had on a suit, sans jacket, which he refused to wear, with a silk tie she had bought him at a very posh Muggle store. He looked really great, the dark pants and blue shirt looked rather smashing on him. Hermione couldn't help but smile.

'We match,' said Ron, holding up his red tie next to Hermione's red dress.

'Ron, I've been meaning to ask you, when are you going to quit Quidditch?'

Ron straightened up, his body going rigid. 'You know the answer to that. Let's not talk about it.'

Hermione frowned and nodded. Clearing her throat, she stood up straight and looked in the mirror. The dress fit nicely on her; it was smooth and bright red and hugged her hips in the way she knew drove Ron mad. She looked much older than she had two years earlier. She was twenty-one now and settled in her job at the Ministry, with a set salary and an intelligent new partner (even if it _was_ Malfoy). Ron looked much older as well. Playing so much Quidditch had really tanned his skin and bleached his hair. So far, being twenty-one had done well for him. He'd had an accident during one of the games against Bulgaria and broke his femur. After that, he'd taken a job as assistant manager for the British National team, which Hermione knew didn't make him as happy, but he was much safer. They had both mellowed out as a couple and didn't have the same blow-out fights they did when they were first together. They bickered mostly and lately they only fought about Ron quitting Quidditch and going to work for the Ministry.

'Are you ready to go?' Ron asked. 'You look a bit peaked.'

Hermione nodded. 'I'm all right. Let's go,' she said softly, 'I'm ready.'

XXXXXXX

The marriage of Lavender Brown to George Weasley was a quiet affair. Most of the guests seemed to be on edge, though, waiting to see who was going to turn into a giant turkey first. They all knew of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes – now with locations in Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, St Petersburg, and Paris. Paris was their latest opening and it was proving to be difficult since the entirety of the Parisian wizarding community was located underground, directly beneath the Eiffel Tower.

There were quite a few children from Lavender's side of the family at the wedding, and several from the Weasley side. Bill and Fleur had their two-year-old son, Charles Reed, who had a mop of curly red hair on his head. After the ceremony, he ran around and laughed and clapped his hands, although no one was sure exactly what was so funny.

William Ignatius Weasley, son of Charlie and Gina, was barely a year old and tried his best to keep up with Charles, but his short little legs couldn't get him very far. He'd fall down, cry, and then pick himself back up and try running again. His hair was also red, but it was cropped very short. Unlike Charles, William's face and arms were _covered_ in freckles; he looked as though he had a tan they were so clumped together on his skin.

Then, there were Lupin and Tonks' boys. Theodore Rollin Lupin (nicknamed 'Teddy'), who was two, and John Randolph Lupin, who was one month. They both looked exactly like Lupin, sandy-coloured hair, light eyes, and thin frames. The youngest one fell asleep half-way through the wedding in Tonks' arms and stayed asleep all throughout the party afterwards. Teddy, on the other hand, took it upon himself to use his dad as his personal playground, climbing up his leg or sitting on his shoulders.

Percy and Penelope also had a little boy and a little girl – Peter and Paige, ages three and two – but only Percy came to the wedding. Penelope stayed home with the kids because Molly always caused such a ruckus about Penelope and Percy not being married.

'Once Ginny starts having kids, this family is going to be huge,' said Harry at the after-party. 'You're going to have to triple the size of The Burrow when everyone comes over for dinner.' He was sitting at a table with Ron, Hermione, Mandy, and Ginny. The table had two empty bottles of Dragonisky's Plum Wine and from what Harry could tell, everyone was feeling very fine.

'I have to get married first,' said Ginny, grinning.

Harry winked. 'You will. Maybe not soon, but you will.'

'I'm going to get another bottle of wine,' said Mandy, standing up and throwing her blue shawl around her shoulders. 'Will you lot drink it if I bring one?'

'Yes,' said Ron, holding up his empty glass. When Mandy walked off, Ron leaned over the table, close to Harry. 'All right, so what's going on with Mandy? I know you said you weren't together anymore, but you always show up with her!'

Harry shrugged. He taught one full year at Hogwarts before deciding to leave the magical world for a while. Taking Mandy, he travelled around Europe, doing everything the Muggle way except for the use of Hedwig to keep in touch with Ron and Hermione. After six months, Harry and Mandy decided to go back to England. Harry enrolled in the Auror program while Mandy opened up a magical bookstore in Diagon Alley to compete with Flourish and Blotts.

Shortly after McDougal was sent to Azkaban, before they left on their trip, Harry and Mandy became lovers. They remained lovers even after they decided to just be friends and date other people. Their connection to one another seemed to be strong enough to maintain a friendship while they watched each other have other relationships (although Harry's seemed to be feeble and worthless). Mandy found a boyfriend for several months this past year, but she always seemed to turn up in Harry's bed. He thought that it was because neither of them were really willing to give up what they had. Although, now that he thought about it, they hadn't made love since June, well over a month. Perhaps they were growing apart.

'We're just friends,' said Harry, realising for the first time that this was true. They owled one another almost every day, still had dinner every Wednesday, but their sexual relationship seemed to have dwindled away.

'Oh? Friends who sleep together, yeah?'

Harry shook his head. 'No, not anymore.' He looked at Ginny. 'How's it going at St Mungo's?' he asked, completely changing the subject.

'Oh, it's all right.'

'Whatever happened to that Richard bloke?'

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'It didn't work out. He broke things off after...'

'After what?'

Ginny blushed. 'Nothing. Maybe I'll tell you one day.'

Just then, George came over. 'How're you lot doing?'

'We'll be doing a whole lot better soon as Mandy comes back with more wine,' said Ron. 'Where's your wife?'

George pointed to the dance floor. 'Dancing with my twin.' He looked at Hermione. 'Can I take you away from your husband for a minute?'

Hermione smiled and nodded. 'Sure. Ron doesn't dance anyway.' She took George's arm and went out to the dance floor.

'She looks good,' said Harry appreciatively.

Ron nodded. 'Yes. Excellent.'

'How is the... y'know coming?'

Ron turned and looked at Harry. 'The what?'

'The baby thing?'

Ron groaned. 'It's been over two years and nothing.' He lowered his voice. 'She went to this Muggle Healer—'

'Doctor,' corrected Harry.

'Whatever. He ran these tests and told her everything was fine. _Then_, and this is the most embarrassing thing to _ever_ happen to me—'

'More embarrassing than the first time you tried to have sex and you came early?' asked Harry lightly, with a large smile on his face.

'Fuck you and yes, more embarrassing than that. This "doctor" gave me a cup and had me... y'know... _wank_ in it.'

Harry let his head fall back as a loud laugh escaped from his throat. He laughed long and hard, noticing that Ginny was giggling as well. When he had regained his composure, he smiled sympathetically at Ron. 'And? What happened?'

'He said I was perfectly healthy as well. I didn't need to do _that_ to know there's nothing wrong with me.'

'So, why can't you have a baby?'

'Doctor says there's no reason. Just our luck. It's beginning to really get to her. She wants me to quit Quidditch when we have a baby so that I won't be travelling weeks at a time. I told her I'd quit once she got pregnant, but it simply has not happened yet.'

'Why is she so hell bent on having a baby?' asked Ginny.

'She wants to start a family before another Dark wizard invades our world. It's her greatest fear. I think she fears that above anything else.'

'That's not going to happen,' said Harry.

Ron shrugged. 'I can't control her fears,' he said. 'Let me tell you, though, that it's been fun trying to have a baby. The positions that witch comes up with that're supposed to increase fertility... wow.'

'Eww!' cried Ginny. 'You're my brother! I don't want to hear shite like that.'

'Anyway, we haven't been trying too hard the past month or so. Hermione hasn't been herself. She's been working really hard on a new project with fucking _Malfoy_ of all people.'

'How's Malfoy doing?' asked Harry.

'Fine, I suppose. Still a raging git from what Hermione's told me. He and Rebecca are still together, although she's in Russia as a part of some project between the British and Russian Ministries for more inter-magical peace or something.'

'Why'd they choose her?'

'Her mum's Russian,' answered Ginny. 'They go to Moscow every Easter to visit her grandmother so she's familiar with the country. She came to stay with me for a week before she went over there. I really like Rebecca; she's good for Malfoy. I miss her. International owls are very expensive.'

'You can borrow Hedwig,' said Harry. 'She'd love the fly and I wouldn't charge you very much to use her.'

Ginny reddened. 'Thanks.'

'I mean it. Let me know the next time you want to owl Rebecca and I'll send Hedwig over to your place.'

Mandy came back with the wine. 'Sorry that took so long. Your brother's in charge of the drinks, apparently,' she said. 'And he didn't want to give up this bottle readily.' She sat the wine on the table and waved her wand to open it. She filled all the glasses.

Harry drank his quickly, feeling even better afterwards, his buzz giving him a pleasant feeling all over his body. He watched the dance floor. A fast, rock song began to play and several more couples moved to the floor. Harry didn't like to dance, so he just watched. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar looking wizard with dreadlocks approach his table.

'Lee!' cried Harry. 'I haven't seen you in ages.'

Lee smiled and held out his hand for Harry to shake. 'Yes, I know. I've been in Paris helping to set up the new store there. I don't know _any_ French so it's been interesting. The Parisians love me, though. I stand outside the store, turn myself into a canary, and they all laugh and come in the store to buy things.'

Harry laughed.

'I came by, actually, to see if you want to dance,' said Lee, his eyes turning to Mandy.

'Oh! Oh, of course! Sure.' Mandy got up, smoothed her blonde hair behind her ears, and followed Lee away.

'You don't mind that she's dancing with another bloke?' asked Ginny.

Harry shook his head. 'No. We were brilliant together while it lasted, but it never felt real. I still really like her, though. We'll just never be together again.'

Harry turned and looked at Ginny. Her eyes were focused on her wine glass and her cheeks were red.

'Hey, Gin? D'you want to dance?'

She jumped as if startled, but smiled and nodded. 'Sure.'

As they made their way to the dance floor Harry turned and looked at Ron and he swore he thought he saw Ron wink.

XXXXXXX

'Mm, I'm really drunk,' said Ginny. 'Mum's not around is she?'

Harry looked around. The party had dwindled done to only a handful of people. George and Lavender had long since gone and Ron and Hermione looked as though they were about ready to leave as well.

'No, I don't see her or your dad.'

'Good. Pour me another glass of wine.'

'There's no more wine,' said Harry, turning the empty bottle over and shaking it for good measure. After they had finished dancing, Ginny insisted on going back and sitting down. She didn't want to ruin her good buzz and so that required more drink. Frowning at the lack of wine, Ginny looked around for a bottle of something else. She found a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky and filled up her glass.

Putting the glass to her lips, she gulped it down. Tears sprang to her eyes as her throat heated up.

'I cannot believe you just downed all that,' said Harry. 'I'm impressed.'

'Thanks.'

From across the table, Ron and Hermione stood up. 'I think we're going to go home. I have practise tomorrow afternoon.'

'Bye, Ron!' said Ginny.

'See ya, mate,' said Harry.

Ron and Hermione waved good-bye as they Disapparated. Ginny felt Harry's eyes on her. She'd felt them on her all night long and it was beginning to make her heart beat in an uncomfortable way.

After Stebbins had died, she stopped going to her Defence classes all together. Even though Harry hadn't killed him, she had nightmares that replayed the death every night in her head. The killer looked just like Harry... sounded just like Harry... and pointed his wand right at her boyfriend. She almost went mad after that. The entire year had been an emotional whirlpool. Round and round and round... she felt everything from depression to anger to love to loss.

The best thing that could have happened was Harry leaving with Mandy once the term was over. She heard from Hermione and Ron that they were visiting all sorts of countries and Muggle towns and villages. Ginny was too emotional to be jealous or sad by this information. The summer of '98 was subdued for her. She stayed close to The Burrow and didn't visit St Mungo's with the rest of her family when Charles and Teddy were born. That summer was the first time Ginny had a break to deal with sorting out her life. She was able to focus on fully healing from Harry, Stebbins, and McDougal and Voldemort.

When the New Year came around, Ginny applied for a job a St Mungo's. She worked there until the end of the summer, bringing around food trays and magically cleaning up any unsightly messes. It felt good to be on her own. She moved into a very small flat near Ron and Hermione and for the very first time felt the amazing feeling of independence. Her life was completely together and she entered the Healing program at St Mungo's on 14 September 1999. With everything going her way, Ginny felt strong enough to date. And she did.

The perfect man kept eluding her, though. It was no matter, Ginny had fun dating several interested wizards. On Halloween night in 2000, Ginny met Richard, her first serious relationship. After eight months, they broke up, but Ginny was mature enough to deal with it. She cried that first night and bought a pint of ice cream to eat from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour the next day. It took her twice as long to laugh or smile, but after a couple of weeks, Ginny fell back into her old, single routine.

For the first time since Richard, a wizard was keeping all eyes on her. Relationships didn't seem to be her strong suit. Ron and Hermione had been together for five years, never dated anyone but each other. Ginny, on the other hand, had dated several people – starting with Michael Corner and ending with Richard Wolcott.

A sudden shiver ran down Ginny's spine as a hand clamped over her forearm.

'Hey, Gin, are you all right?'

Ginny's eyes focused on Harry. 'What?'

'You completely tuned me out.'

'Oh, sorry. Must be the alcohol.'

He nodded and withdrew his hand. She did not need to lose her composure tonight over _Harry Potter_.

Thankfully, Harry didn't have a chance to respond; Mandy came over, a large smile plastered across her face.

'Having fun?' she asked.

Harry nodded. 'Yeah. I'm glad George and Lavender decided to have an open bar. I'm disappointed that I didn't get to see Hermione get rip-roaring drunk, though.'

Mandy giggled. 'I can't imagine. Anyhow, I came over to ask if you'll be all right if I left you here.'

'Huh?'

'Well, we were supposed to be one another's dates tonight, yeah?'

Harry nodded.

'But I've spent all my time with Lee while you've been cavorting with Ginny.'

Ginny shook her head. 'No, no, there's been no cavorting.'

'Yes, I suppose we've neglected each other,' said Harry.

'Well, Lee's never seen a Muggle movie, so I thought I'd take him to one of the theatres in London.'

Harry nodded. 'Sounds fun.'

'Well, bye, then.' Mandy smiled at Ginny. 'It was nice seeing you again.'

'Yeah, sure,' said Ginny, returning the smile, even though it wasn't entirely sincere. Once Mandy left, Ginny said, 'I think I'm ready to go home.'

'Want me to walk you?'

'No, I'll just Apparate.' A rush of dizziness invaded Ginny's head as she stood up. She swayed and Harry jumped to his feet to steady her.

'You'll splinch yourself if you Apparate as drunk as you are.'

'Well, how will I get home?'

'We're in the middle of a rented ballroom in London. We can walk you home.'

'I know how to walk. I don't need you to help me.'

'I'm not going to help you,' said Harry. 'I'm just going to walk with you in case someone tries to mess with you. I don't know if you can use that wand of yours properly in your state of drunkenness.'

'Ah,' said Ginny with a nod, 'well, whatever. Let's go.'

XXXXXXX

After the wedding, Ron and Hermione dragged their tired bodies home. Ron felt drunk from all the wine, but Hermione seemed fine. Once they entered their bedroom, Ron turned Hermione around and undid the zipper to her dress. He slid the straps off her shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor.

'I think I'm going to take a bath,' said Hermione, sitting on the edge of the bed and undoing the buckles to her sandals. 'Do you want to come?'

'Take a bath with you?'

Hermione nodded.

Ron grinned. 'Of course.'

Hermione stood up, barefoot, and reached for Ron's tie. She undid it and began to work on the buttons of his shirt. Once he was divested of his clothes, he went into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. Hermione came in a moment later, with their bathrobes in her hands. She hung them up on the hooks on the inside of the bathroom door.

Ron climbed into the semi-filled tub as Hermione poured bubble bath under the running water. She got in as well and leaned her back against Ron's front.

'Where are George and Lavender going on a honeymoon?'

'I don't know,' answered Ron. 'They never said.'

'Lavender's pregnant,' said Hermione.

'What!' cried Ron, very surprised.

'Yeah, Ginny told me. Lavender found out a few days ago, but they were going to wait to make an announcement in another few weeks. Your mum hasn't reacted well to Percy's kids, so Lavender and George wanted to make plenty sure that they were married until they said anything.'

'Another baby in the family. Mum'll go nuts, y'know. She's already on Bill and Fleur to have another one, but I don't think they will. Bill said Fleur didn't like being pregnant.'

'Fleur probably didn't like being fat,' said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

Ron ran his wet and bubbly hands over Hermione's stomach. He dipped one hand under the water to slid in between her thighs while the other hand massaged her breast.

'Ron, stop.'

'No,' he said, nuzzling her neck.

Hermione reached down and took hold of Ron's hand. 'Stop. Just wait.'

'Well, fuck, Hermione. We haven't had sex in almost three weeks. We've never gone that long since... Well, since after you were hurt during the final battle with Voldemort!'

'I _know_. Will you be quiet?'

'Fine.'

'I think when I tell you, you're going to be upset, but remember that you love me and you married me through better or worse.'

Ron took in a deep breath. 'All right. What did you do?'

'For the past month and a half...' Hermione paused.

'For the past month and a half you what? Gambled away our money? Kissed Malfoy? Killed a puppy? What?'

'No, been pregnant.'

'Wait, _what_?'

'I didn't tell you because I didn't think it was real. It took us so long _to_ get pregnant, I wanted to make sure I really was before I told you.'

'A month and a half!' cried Ron.

'Yes, I'm sorry. I should've told you sooner.'

Ron was silent.

Hermione turned her head to look at Ron. 'Are you all right?'

'I suppose I should look for a Ministry job.'

'There's still another eight months, so there's no real rush. There's some parenting books we should read. I bought a few yesterday after work. I think that _How to Raise the Modern Witch or Wizard_ is a good one. Ohh, and _Baby Tips for the Magical Dad_ for you. There's also _Never Too Soon to Learn: How to Teach Your Child the Fundamentals of Quidditch_. BUT! I do _not_ want you teaching our baby Quidditch until they're old enough to at least walk.'

'You bought me a Quidditch book?'

Hermione nodded.

'You're the best. Can we shag now?'

'In the bath?'

'Do you think _I _care where we do it?'

Hermione laughed. 'I suppose not.'

Ron patted his legs. 'Just hop up on my lap and we can get going – wait! It won't, like, jar the baby loose, will it?'

'Having sex?'

Ron nodded.

'No.'

'I won't dent its head or anything?'

'Ron, the baby is about this big,' said Hermione, holding her thumb and forefinger very close together. 'Even when he or she is eight months in my stomach, you won't _dent _his or her head.'

'Are you sure? Because when Charles was little, he had a funny shaped head.'

'That's because he slept on his back; that happens to a lot of babies.'

'Oh. So, it wasn't Bill's fault?'

Hermione laughed. 'No.'

'How is it you know so much?'

'I don't know. I suppose I just read a lot.'

'You read loads of stuff. Let's shag, c'mon.'

Hermione laughed as Ron pulled her to him, attacking her neck with his mouth and letting his hands dive under the water, splashing everywhere and getting the bathroom all wet.

XXXXXXX

'You didn't have to walk me home,' said Ginny, swaying a bit.

Harry shook his head. 'I was afraid you'd splinch yourself if you tried to Apparate home. And I'm hardly drunk; I can defend you if anyone tries to mug you.'

'No one is going to mug me,' said Ginny, walking sideways into the front of a brick building. 'Oops.'

'Well, either way, my date to the wedding went home with another bloke. It's only fitting I go home with another bird.'

'You're not coming up to my flat, Potter,' said Ginny.

'That's all right. Walking you home is enough. Say, Gin, are you drunk enough to tell me what happened with Richard? Why did you two break up?'

'Oh, well, things didn't work out.'

'That's what you said before.'

'Truth is,' Ginny began, stopping in her tracks, 'he got a bit upset when I told him I didn't want to sleep with him.'

'Hadn't you been dating him for several months?'

'Yes, eight.'

'Can't say that I'm not surprised he asked for sex. Why did you say no?'

'_Because_!' cried Ginny. 'I've already used up my one lover!'

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. Did she really just say..? Yes, she did. Ohh, shite. 'You can't possibly never have sex ever again.'

Ginny shrugged. 'I can take care of myself.'

'Oh, fuck, that's hot.'

Ginny laughed and began to walk down the sidewalk again. She hummed loudly.

'Hey, Gin, wait up!' Harry jogged to catch up with Ginny. 'I'd hate for you to have to take care of yourself for the rest of your life. Why don't you let me help you?'

'Oh, don't be silly, Harry. We've tried that. It didn't work.'

'We were both immature then. I was only seventeen.'

'And turning twenty has really changed all that?'

'I'll be twenty-one next week and _yes_, it has. We're both different. We've got our lives together now. You're working for St Mungo's and I'm working for the Ministry. In another few months I'll have finished with the Auror program and you'll be a fully qualified Healer. Plus we have all that old baggage behind us, yeah?'

Ginny shrugged.

'I've dealt with killing Voldemort and with being targeted by McDougal. You've dealt with what happened when you were a first-year and with Stebbins dying. I'd say in the past three years we've actually grown ten.'

Ginny stopped walking again. She turned and looked at Harry. Her mascara had smudged a bit underneath her eye and Harry reached out with the pad of his thumb to press it away. He smiled, but her face remained expressionless.

'You've been with other girls,' said Ginny.

'So?'

'How many?'

'What?'

'How many other girls? It can't be only Mandy.'

Reluctantly, Harry shook his head. 'No… there's been three others.'

'Including Mandy?'

'No.'

Ginny let out a bitter-sounding laugh. 'Wow.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Don't be sorry. You didn't have any ties to me. If Mandy hadn't gone home with Lee you wouldn't even be here right now.'

'Well, no, I would have taken her home, but nothing would have happened. We're not lovers anymore. Look, Gin, you and I… we have ties. We were friends, then lovers, then enemies, and now we're friends again. I can't seem to ever stay away from you. I feel as though a part of you has always been in my head and in my heart since the day we first kissed on the Hogwarts Express. Just looking at you now is intoxicating. I can't believe I ever let you go.'

'Well, you did,' said Ginny.

'I should never have done that. I'm the world's biggest git.'

'I'm not going to disagree.'

'I could learn to love you again if you give me the chance. We're totally different people now, but exactly the same. D'you understand what I mean?'

Ginny's laugh turned into a cry.

'Oh, no, I didn't mean to make you cry!' said Harry, suddenly feeling like a complete heel.

'You can't say things like this to me! I've got a life without you! I've had a life without you for _years_ now!'

'I know. I'm sorry, you're right. Isn't your flat up this way? I'll walk you home then we'll pretend this never happened, all right?'

Ginny nodded. She walked down the sidewalk again, Harry at her side. When they reached her front door, she didn't stop or even look at him; she just continued on inside the building and shut the door.

Harry stared at the closed door for over a minute before shoving his hands in his pockets and starting down the sidewalk. He was sober enough to Apparate home if he wanted to, but he felt that walking might clear his head.

Why had he opened his big mouth? He'd been sleeping with Mandy for three years, hadn't he? Although, for the past year it had been purely physical, on both their parts. And for the past few months he and Ron and Hermione had been socialising with one another more than usual and Ginny had joined them on several occasions. She had matured; she was a woman now and Harry liked it. He was drawn to her, just like he had been when they were at Hogwarts. He couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't been a professor during Ginny's seventh year if they would have got back together.

_We would have_, thought Harry. _I know it._ He sighed. He'd said that he could learn to love her again, but that wasn't the truth because he was already _in_ love with her again. More so than the first time they were together and more so than when he was in love with Mandy. This was intense. He and Ginny had a strong bond that nothing could break – or, at least, that's how he felt.

Harry stopped walking. He thought he heard someone running behind him. He turned and saw a flash of red hair coming up the sidewalk.

'Wait!'

That was definitely Ginny's voice. The redheaded girl continued to run down the sidewalk and about four feet in front of Harry, she jumped in his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms went around his neck and it took most of his strength not to fall over from the force of her jump. His arms curled around her hips and he held her flush to him.

'I don't need time to learn to fall in love with you,' whispered Harry. 'I think I already am.'

Ginny laughed through her tears as she pulled back just a bit to look Harry in the eye. 'I need some time before I can say that I love you again,' she said.

'That's all right,' said Harry. 'I don't mind.'

'But I don't want to lose you again. Not to a Dark wizard or a veil or from our own stupidity. This is for life, Harry.'

Harry nodded. 'I wouldn't have it any other way,' he said softly. 'I miss you. I've missed for a long, long time.'

Ginny nodded. 'Stop talking.' She bent her head down and kissed his lips.

XXXXXXX

The End

XXXXXXX

A/N: I'm a nerd. I wanted the names of the children to be significant in someway, so here's how I chose the names.

_Charles Reed Weasley, born 2 June 1999 – _Charles, after Charlie (I always imagined Bill and Charlie to be very close) and Reed, which means 'red hair'.

_William Ignatius Weasley, born 15 July 2000_ – William after Bill and Ignatius, which means 'fiery' since Charlie works with dragons.

_Theodore Rollin Lupin, 1 May 1999_ – Theodore after Tonks' dad whose name is Ted and Rollin, which means 'wolf'.

_John Randolph Lupin, 4 June 2001_ – John, which is Remus' middle name and Randolph, which means 'wolf with a shield'.

Reviews – I appreciate everyone who left a review and appreciate it even if they weren't singing praises. Honesty is good and I'm glad if you had problems with the story, you told me so in a very constructive way. Now, to the gits who flamed me (at ff . net; not CM – all you CMers are the best) – first of all, flaming is silly because it doesn't offer any constructive criticism. If you don't like the story, then take a leaf from MandyCroyance's book. She left a detailed, thought out review about the story. She didn't say 'I hate this story. You're not a good writer any more.' Please. We're not in kindergarten anymore, are we? I write fanfiction because I love Harry Potter. I don't write it to gain popularity with readers. I'm glad that so many people enjoy my stories, but if you don't, you don't need to leave me a nasty review saying so. Just stop reading. I won't know if you don't read the story anymore. For those of you who DO enjoy my stories, I'm glad you like them and your input and comments are always welcome – _as long as they are constructive_. But yes to those of you who genuinely liked it – I'm glad! I aspire to be novelist, so gaining readership is important.

Ohh, and to Ferrisbmnkm – I'm glad you get to read the story on fanfiction dot net even if it is a censored version. When you can join the Bedchamber, check out the outtakes from this story.

This story has come to an end. I do have several, short, one chapter stories planned for the continuation of this story. When will I write those? I'm not sure, but you can put me on 'Author Alert' and find out when I upload a new story. The next story I'm writing is called, **Sailing the Dark Ship**, and it's a Draco/Ginny story. It's going to be dark and angsty. It'll have its romantic moments, but it won't be anything like Finally! I pride myself on it being very well-written and plot-driven. It should be rated R so it can be posted in its entirety here on ff . net. You can expect it to be posted on 1st August 2005 – the same time the queue reopens on Checkmated . com. I've already started it and I'm very pleased with it and the outline thus far.

That being said, I hope you like the D/G story even if you don't like the pairing. It's going to delve deep into Draco's psyche and his relationship with his parents. It'll also explore Ginny's involvement with the Dark Lord when she was eleven as well as her relationship with Harry and her brother.

I know that my user name is DanielGilmore, but I'm a girl. DanielGilmore happens to be one of my best friends. I'm the one who had the baby and I'm the one who is in school. I find myself having to clear that up a lot. So, yes, there it is again. DanielGilmore - chick.

Lastly, I have to thank my beta, Doraemon. She's excellent and always talks about my story with me and I'm excited to have her on board for the next fic.

Cheers, and see you guys in August!


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